Bent
by Vicki So
Summary: The trio and the Prince have a run in on a strange island that strips benders of their powers... and their lives. What mystery does the island hold? Zutara, with a little bit of everything, even Momo! Sequel to The Ho'Wan Island Carnival. COMPLETE!
1. Ch 1: The Long Journey

**Greetings! Welcome to my second major ATLA story. It's been one helluva ride, and I'm already planning the sequel to this work too, but not until I see the season finale. **

**(eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee - that's the high-pitched squeal of glee I make when shows go into season finales.)**

**Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing: I'd like to take time now to tip my hat and thank a few readers and writers who have inspired me to keep up this new life-consuming habit/hobby of mine:**

**SleepingDragon13: You rock.**  
**hUeS -of- h a z e l**: **My very first groupie!  
Marin M: Thanks!  
Spleef: Cold Water/Hot Water is totally awesome.  
Zukoscute2: Don't ever stop being funny.**

**More shout outs to come!**

**A note about this work: I have done my best to construct a plausible episodic universe that the gang can co-exist in - kind of a series of "episodes of which we do not speak." Ho'Wan was just the first, a happy warm-up that I needed to write in order to establish the Zutara relationship. This work turned out to be a lot darker, and I had no idea it was going there until I got to the end. **

**I encourage everyone to review and flame me - I struggled through this piece a lot, and I might have overlooked or omitted an explanation here or there. If you catch one and leave me a review, I will pledge to write a drabble and dedicate it to you. How's THAT for an incentive?  
**

**And no, Avatar: the Last Airbender does not belong to me.**

* * *

_Every day in paradise is warm. _

_I thank the gods every day that I arrived here safely and in good health. I am grateful for the good food I have found and harvested and cultivated. I am grateful for the few harmful creatures that pace this land. I am especially thankful for the perfect water here. It is clear and pure, untouched by any other._

_I will be safe here._

* * *

"Katara, c'mon, I'm starving!" Sokka wrestled weakly with his sister, trying to get at the satchel of food she'd pushed into the corner behind her.The water bending girl shoved him away. 

"Sokka, you ate twenty minutes ago! How do you expect us to get to the North Pole if we have to keep stopping to restock our supplies?" She pushed the food bag further behind her and sat on it.

Her brother groaned and dejectedly padded back to his corner of the flying bison's wide litter, pouting. "You don't get it – I'm a growing young warrior! I need fuel to keep me going! What'll happen if Fire Nation soldiers attack and I collapse from starvation?"

Aang turned to grin from his spot on Appa's neck. "Don't worry Sokka, me and Katara can protect you."

Sokka glared, anger tinting his cheeks. "I don't need protection from you two! I can take care of myself, you know!" He shot back irately. "I may not have any of your fancy bending powers, but I can handle myself in a fight!"

The girl and the Airbending monk both flinched. "That's not what he meant, Sokka," Katara said gently. "We've both seen you in action, and you've proven yourself plenty."

"I don't need to prove myself to anyone!" Sokka snapped, turning on his sister.

Katara recoiled from her brother's outburst, but angrily countered. "Don't be so touchy Sokka! Why do you always have to be such a macho man?"

"Maybe because SOMEONE has to be!" he cried. "A 12-year-old kid and my little sister are running from a crazed Fire Nation Prince while we're trying to save the world! I made a promise to dad to protect you, and I promised to help Aang get to the North Pole! But so far, we haven't had much luck getting there or avoiding danger, have we?"

"Well if you're _soooooo _bent on getting us to the North Pole, then _maybe_ you should stop eating all the food! We'd get there faster if we didn't have to stop all the time!" Katara screamed back.

"Whoa, whoa, easy guys!" Aang leapt from his place and came between the now standing siblings, ever the peace-loving Avatar. "You're fighting over food. When I was living at the Air Temple, the monks would make us fast for days and sometimes weeks at a time to cleanse our minds and bodies. Katara, just give him an apple. Sokka, you make that apple last until sundown. We're not going to stop until then."

The brother and sister snorted and turned their backs on each other. Katara huffily rooted through the bag and whipped the smallest, most bruised apple she could find at Sokka's head. He caught it neatly, glowering at her. Katara blinked in surprised before returning the glare. Her brother's reflexes were improving.

Aang sighed. It was always hard traveling with these two when they fought. The next few hours would be filled with tense, awkward silence. Momo perched in his lap, away from the feuding sibs, chittering nervously, and he stroked the lemur's soft fur to soothe him.

The young monk thought about Sokka's mood and what he'd just said: _I made a promise to dad to protect you, and I promised to help Aang get to the North Pole! But so far, we haven't had much luck getting there or avoiding danger!_

_And I haven't been able to do anything about it_, Aang mentally filled in. While he was a trained and formidable warrior, Sokka had thus far been powerless against the Fire Nation, and against the bizarre and often dangerous situations they kept getting themselves into.

_Maybe I don't have any of your fancy bending powers, but I can handle myself in a fight!_ Now there was a giant pothole in the rocky road. Was Sokka jealous that his sister was a flourishing Waterbender? If so, what did he think about the Avatar, the most powerful bender on earth?

Before he could reflect any deeper, Katara screamed again. "Sokka, what are you doing!"

Aang turned to see the boy greedily guzzling from the water skin. Before he could stop her, Katara had whipped her hands out, bending the water in the skin and smacking her brother in the face with a miniature stinging water whip. He dropped the leather flask and let the water cascade out of the mouthpiece, big crystal splashes soaring out and over Appa's wide tail.

For a moment, the water boy sat stunned, a red welt rising on his cheek. The Water Tribe siblings had finally reached a boiling point. Sokka uttered a battle cry and jumped at his sister. The two rolled around the litter in a flurry of limbs, batting at each other with tiny fists, hair-pulling, and biting, tangling themselves in each other's robes and gear.

"You stupid—"

"—Arrogant—"

"Ahh! Quit it!"

"Let go!"

ARRRGGH!"

"Stop it!" Aang shouted, but the two continued their cat fight. He watched helplessly as the precious water skin rolled out of the litter and plummeted to the ocean below.

Aang furiously yanked Appa's reins and roughly drove him into a steep, corkscrew dive. He heard the siblings gasp and begin to scream as the flying bison's twisting plunge lifted them from the litter's gravitic safety to hover an inch off the beast's back in freefall.

_There, that stopped them._ Aang spotted the water skin still falling, and hastily leapt for it, bending the air rushing beneath him to propel him forward. The Avatar snatched the water skin out of the air, and Appa caught him and the falling siblings in one swooping movement of his enormous body just metres before they hit the ocean's white-capped surface.

The bison sailed back into the clouds, grunting as the weight on his back shifted and churned restlessly.

"What the heck, Aang? Are you trying to kill us?" Sokka cried, untangling himself from his sister's body.

"No, but apparently you two are!" Aang shouted back, holding up the nearly empty water skin. "This is our only source of fresh drinking water! We can't keep stopping to get more! You said it yourself!"

Katara blanched as she realized what they'd done. They could tighten their belts and do without food for a couple of days, but without water, they couldn't travel very far. Sokka looked equally shamefaced.

"Aang, I'm sorry, I—"

"Just forget it," Aang huffed, interrupting Sokka's apology. It wasn't like him to be angry, but the weight of the world had suddenly settled heavily on his tiny shoulders. He only had until the Summer Solstice to learn all four elements and it was taking them forever just to get to the North Pole to learn Waterbending. He'd still have earth and fire after that. How long would it take to find a master for each of those elements?

Aang grumpily returned to his seat on Appa's neck, taking up the reins again. Maybe it was better to leave the siblings behind when they reached the North Pole. That way there wouldn't be as many distractions on his long and arduous journey. And there wouldn't be as much danger for either of his two friends.

The thought sobered Aang and he sighed in frustration. He spotted a land mass on the horizon and guided Appa toward it. "We'll stop there for the night. Get some water. Find some food." He said shortly.

The siblings said nothing and the trio made the rest of the trip in terse silence.

The journey was taking its toll on all of them.

* * *

"We've been two weeks out of harbour! How are we going to survive if we don't have potable water?" 

Prince Zuko barely heard the comment as he stood at the horn-like prow of his Fire Nation ship, gazing at the ocean's wavering horizon. An endless ocean, spilling over the edge of the world… he'd been staring at it for so long now, he didn't know whether to love it, hate it, or fear it.

The ship's lieutenant, Jee, was arguing with Uncle Iroh in hushed but angry tones. While Jee respected Prince Zuko and was convinced the young man would put the safety and well-being of the crew before anything else, the lieutenant observed that Zuko had become even more obsessed with chasing the Avatar lately. And yet, the boy had almost entirely withdrawn from the day-to-day operations of the ship.

Ever since their humiliating departure from Ho'Wan Island, the prince had taken to standing for hours on end at the head of the ship, staring at the wide blue ocean, unmoving. He'd spend the rest of his time meditating, and spoke only when spoken to.

What really disturbed the crew was Zuko's unnatural patience. He had barely spoken to anyone in a voice louder than a whisper. He did not bark orders and insult the staff. He did not pace restlessly. Even his training sessions seemed to lack the intensity they once held. He seemed haunted, or wounded, or both.

But they could all see it. A great storm was brewing inside the scarred, exiled prince. And all sailors know about the calm before the storm. For that reason, the lieutenant had taken to speaking to the prince through his more genial and understanding uncle, the retired General Iroh, who was possibly the only person on earth who was immune to Zuko's moods, threats, or otherwise. When the dam finally broke, Jee would prefer the hefty old man be at the receiving end of Prince Zuko's wrath.

"Nephew," Iroh ambled up next to Zuko. He did not reply. "We're running out of drinking water and we have to stop for supplies soon. Otherwise we'll be eating plain rice and soy sauce for dinner."It sounded like a sombre threat, but Iroh was probably the only one who would take it seriously.

Zuko's eyes did not move from the horizon. "There are plenty of fish in the sea," he said distantly. And he said no more.

Iroh sighed. "Zuko, we will all be mad with thirst if we do not stop to get water. I cannot stress the importance of water enough."

_Water… her blue eyes…_

Zuko shut his eyes, trying desperately to burn the image from his mind. "Do what you have to." Zuko dismissed him abruptly and headed to his cabin to meditate. He slammed the heavy steel door behind him.

Iroh watched his nephew's retreat, worry furrowing his brow. He headed off to inform the helmsman to land at the nearest island.

* * *

**...Aw... p'oh Zuko's awll hawt-bwoken...**  



	2. Ch 2: Alone

_I am so lonely. _

_You can be lonely in paradise. Company must be something all creatures crave. Even the animals here have circles of friends. We often lose sight of what we have until we've lost it. Or until it reappears. _

_She is so beautiful._

* * *

Aang, Sokka and Katara made their camp in silence, not looking each other in the eye. Momo watched as each moved about as though the others did not exist. If they spoke to each other, it was in the most clipped grunts. 

The lemur exchanged worried and puzzled looks with the great flying bison, the last of his homeland brethren.

"I'm going to look for food." Katara stated blandly. The boys made non-committal noises. Aang was sullenly drawing in the dirt with a stick. Sokka was polishing his prized boomerang intently.

Katara turned and walked into the forest and Momo went after her, the only one concerned with Katara being alone in the woods.

The water girl padded quietly across the rich, damp ground, her mind absorbed with the day's events. They were all sulking and irritable and it made her feel terrible. How long had it been since they'd left the Southern Water Tribe? A month? Two? Six? She couldn't even remember. All she knew was that it had been far too long to be in the sole company of the two boys. They spent so much time traveling in silence now that she was beginning to wonder if they really had exhausted all the topics of conversation that three teens could come up with, even if most of them had been about food.

Kataralonged for fresh company, different conversations, and new faces. Maybe that was why she had fallen so easily for Kimji.

Katara smacked herself. No, no, no! Stop thinking about him! He never existed! He doesn't exist! And you're a fool to believe he ever did!

And as it had over the last two weeks, the memories swept over her in an unstoppable tidal wave of anguish. In these blinding moments, she would remember that beautiful face, smiling and laughing and carefree. She would recall how the young man had fearlessly rescued her from a group of bullies and tenderly nursed her wounds. She would remember how they had laughed and talked, watched a play together, and eaten sweets.

And then Katara's heart would stop as she relived that magical moment when she and Kimji had stood before the fountain of eternity in the centre of the town of Ho'Wan, watching the eternal flame dance on the surface of the water, their hands barely touching. An electric shiver passed through her body as she supplemented a moment that never happened - _leaning in to touch her lips to his_-

And then the fantasies and memories twisted and writhed as that ultimate betrayal replayed itself in her mind: the crushing moment she realized "Kimji" was Prince Zuko in disguise.

She didn't know how he had done it. She didn't care. But his scarred face had become something more than a face she feared: it was a face she loathed. He was a blemish, a scar as plain and ugly and horrible as his own on her few happy memories, on her whole life. And she would hate him for the rest of her days for taking and destroying all the good things she once had. Her mother. Her father. Security. Innocence. A home. Kimji.

Katara vividly recalled the day Prince Zuko and the Fire Nation troops had landed in the Southern Water Tribe's village seeking the Avatar. They had plowed through the village's protective wall of hard packed ice and snow like it was nothing. Zuko himself had emerged from the ship, a dark, angry youth she had at first mistaken for a hardened man. He hurt Gran-Gran and frightened the children. She had known then he was not someone who deserved any respect or love. The boy must have been heartless to threaten elderly women and helpless kids.

She remembered with a smirk how Sokka, in full Water Tribe battle regalia, had rushed the prince, only to be harmlessly deflected and thrown into a snow bank. He had gotten his revenge, of course, but Katara doubted that Sokka would prevail in a one-on-one with the Firebender.

Though the would-be Water Tribe warrior had been defeated by a number of foes (and allies), Katara did not see her brother as weak or helpless, no matter how many times they'd been captured or threatened. Sokka was always there to protect her. He'd rush into a fray against a hundred Fire Nation soldiers with little more than his club and boomerang if he knew she or Aang were in danger. What a long way he'd come from the clumsy fledgling warrior wannabe fresh out of the Southern Water Tribe. His voice might still be cracking, and he was still quite clumsy, but Sokka was growing up into quite a man.

But of course she'd think that. He was her big brother. He was her strength. Katara could see her father's hard blue eyes looking out from behind her brother's, and it made everything all right when he was near.

The water girl sighed and resolved to apologize to him. But before all could be made right, she'd need a peace offering.

It came in the form of a miracle. Steps from where she stood, bushes heavily laden with large, dark purple berries glimmered in the sunlight shafting through the treetops. Katara kneeled by the bushes, gasping at the sheer size of them, each one nearly half of her balled fist. Only prudence kept her from shoving the soft, fragrant-smelling fruit into her mouth right there and then. After all, if they were so edible, why hadn't any of the local wildlife picked these bushes clean?

Momo chittered and glided down on silent wings from the branches above. He'd been following her in the trees, keeping watch over her like a furry impish angel. "Hey Momo," Katara greeted the creature smilingly. "What do you think? Is it dinner?"

The lemur picked the nearest berry and shoved it into his maw without hesitation, reaching for another before he finished swallowing. Katara watched the creature for signs of poison or sickness, but none came. Momo ate berry after berry, squelching happily as his white and grey fur slowly stained with dark red juice. Aang said it was usually safe to eat anything Momo ate, so she cautiously popped one into her mouth.

It burst, sweet, heavenly nectar flooding her senses and practically squirting from her pursed lips. She quickly gathered together a huge pile of the berries, popping the odd one into her mouth as she worked, and triumphantly carried them back in the folds of her robe. She found herself singing as she headed back to camp.

Things would get better, she told herself. And they would have a feast tonight.

* * *

_How did I live before he arrived? _

_He came to my paradise five full moons after I arrived. Or was it six? It doesn't matter now, time before him meant nothing. _

_Now this truly is paradise._

* * *

The ship landed before sunset and nearly the entire crew disembarked, wearily stretching and cracking their joints as though they'd just awaken from a long slumber. It was unusual to see a boat disgorge its entire staff, but neither the commanding officer nor the Dragon of the West stopped them from leaving their posts. 

Iroh, too, felt more tired than usual. The past two years had been long, sure, but the past two weeks had felt like eternity. Zuko had been so withdrawn, Iroh began to worry his nephew was suffering from depression, something much more serious that his usual angst. Perhaps the exiled prince was finally beginning to see just how futile capturing the Avatar was. He didn't doubt his canny nephew would eventually catch the young boy, but to believe he would simply be welcomed back into the royal court...

Of course, Iroh would never point this out to the boy. He'd never dream of stripping his beloved nephew of his one hope for return to normalcy. He'd do anything for Zuko, including following him into exile. But at that moment, he would have liked nothing more than to have the whole Avatar business over and done with so he could enjoy the rest of his retirement.

Frankly, returning to the Fire Nation didn't have the appeal it once had. A nice quiet island like this with some good company and lots of tea was all he really wanted. It was quite nice here, warm, lush, and peaceful. A little too rustic for him, perhaps, but a retinue of staff would do wonders for this paradisiacal real estate.

The ship's lieutenant gave orders to search for clean water and food. The ship's cook emerged from his kitchen for the first time in a long while and strode up and down the beach, exploring the native vegetation and seeing if any of it was edible. The medic did the same, looking for useful healing herbs. Iroh watched as one by one, the men shuffled down the plank and onto the sand, their faces tired, listless, and frowning. Some of them started a half-hearted game of kickball. Others settled back, sitting in the soft sand, staring at the ocean that had for so long borne them towards an uncertain goal.

Zuko remained locked in his room, meditating.

And suddenly, Iroh could see it plain as day. Despite his best efforts to keep the men occupied with Pai-sho and music night, the men were tired. They were bored. And they were dangerously close to mutiny.

Well, he wasn't about to let that happen to his already troubled nephew.

"Lieutenant Jee," Iroh called. The man stepped forward. "There are a few cases in the cargo hold with the Imperial mark on them. They're sealed and have my name on them. Will you please bring them all down to the land?"

"Of course general," the lieutenant bowed. "What's in them?"

"Just a little something special for your men," Iroh smiled. "Prince Zuko and I spoke about it earlier. He knows how hard you've all been working. I think he's wanted to tell you how much he appreciates you, but he's not a boy of many words these days, eh?"

The lieutenant nodded with a you-can-say-that-again look on his face, and went to obey Iroh's orders. The general set about genially giving instructions to other members of the crew, who all jumped to obey him. It was a rare occasion when the great Dragon of the West gave orders superseding his spoiled nephew's grand mission to capture the Avatar. Unless it involved Pai-sho or tea, of course.

As instructed, the men built a great bonfire, and a total of 12 of the special cases were brought down to the beach. These sturdy oak chests were lacquered with a special glaze that made them fireproof, and were often used to store special items of fine clothing, important documents, or other precious commodities. The boxes themselves cost a fortune - after all, wood was scarce in the Fire Nation. The reason these boxes were used instead of the steel and iron-wrought chests was because whatever was in them was valuable enough to be reclaimed in case the ship sank or capsized. These babies would float, while metal-worked boxes would not.

Jee inspected each box carefully as it was set down on the sand, making sure the esteemed general's property was treated with respect. The crew gathered around, curious about the mysterious boxes. Each was stamped with the Fire Nation's Imperial symbol, the red flame. Iroh had neatly painted his name in red over the delicate rice paper seal on the lid of each case. The personal seals might as well have said, "Open on penalty of death," but Iroh came from the military school of "speak softly and carry a big flaming stick."

The old general urged the men to open the precious cases, his eyes glittering in anticipation. As they carefully slit the seals and pried the lids off, the crew and soldiers gasped.

Smoked pork. Preserved eggs. Cured sausages. Pickled vegetables. Jams and jellies. Sweet biscuits. A royal feast for a salty crew used to plain fish and rice every night.

And then came the crowning moment as the men opened the last three crates: 36 bottles of the Fire Nation's finest mead from the Fire Lord's own cellars.

They all turned to stare at Iroh, bewildered and hopeful and overjoyed all at once.

"Tonight, we celebrate, and honour our Prince Zuko!" Iroh proclaimed, hefting a bottle out of the crate over his head.

The joyous uproar reverberating over the island sent a cloud of birds noisily into the air.

* * *

"Did you hear that?" Sokka's ears perked up. 

The trio was happily supping on Katara's berry windfall when Sokka thought he heard something that sounded oddly like a cheer. It was like a great breath being released through an open mouth. _Ha-aaaaaaah…_

"Uh midn't meer nutn'," Aang said through a mouthful of berries. Katara shrugged.

The boys' sullen anger had disappeared as soon as she had returned with the skirtful of fruit. As she laid down their dinner, Katara had opened with a brief and heartfelt apology, which the two boys accepted and returned and exchanged. Group hugs were brief, and they quickly fell to stuffing their faces with berries.

They were the sweetest, juiciest berries any of them had ever eaten. And there were so many of them! Katara went back a second time with Sokka and they gathered more for their journey. But they were so delicious that by the time they returned to the campsite, they'd already eaten half the pile. Aang was so happy they'd all made up that he was hardly disappointed. He promised he'd go gather the berries on the next expedition.

The sun was low in the sky, but it was clear and blue, promising a mild night. Katara looked down at herself and grimaced at the dark red juice stains covering her robe. She decided it looked too much like blood.

"I'm going to find some water," Katara announced, picking up the now-empty water skin.

Sokka stopped her. "No Katara, let me do it. You got the food," he smiled amiably.

"It's okay, Sokka. I need to wash my dress out and bathe," she said, wiping her sticky fingers across her juice-stained mouth. "I'll be back soon. You guys take it easy."

"Okay, but don't get into any trouble!" Aang called after her, his belly full and happy. Sokka watched his sister go and got up to practice swinging his club and explore the area. Aang leaned back and sighed. This was the life. Berries, friends, and a clear blue sky overhead. The day's troubles forgotten, Aang relaxed into a smile and dozed off.

* * *

_ I had a dream where I was not me. _

_I was someone else, and I had a purpose, a duty to uphold. And fulfilling that duty meant the world to me. _

_It frightened me so_.

* * *

Zuko skipped through the garden, chasing pretty blue butterflies around the stone fountain. 

The fountain was conical and made of granite, and though water burbled from its apex, a hot orange flame happily coexisted on its surface, just barely brushing the cool liquid. His Uncle Iroh sat smilingly on a stone bench, drinking tea. Zuko's father, the Fire Lord Ozai, lounged on a pile of crimson cushions, talking pleasantly with a woman Zuko wasn't sure he recognized. Ozai turned and waved at him from his seat, encouraging him to keep up his play.

"Zuko…" a cool, liquid voice called. He turned and rushed toward the voice, unable to see the owner's face. He was too short. All he could see was knees and the white fur-trimmed hem of a blue dress.

"Mommy!" He cried out joyfully and a pair of strong, slender arms embraced him. Zuko buried his face in the curve of a soft neck and shoulder, a delicate ivory collarbone snuggling up under his chin. She smelled like the sea, daffodils, and crisp winter nights.

But as Zuko cuddled the woman, he realized he had never known his mother. She had died when he was very young. And this woman was not his mother.

He pulled away from the stranger's suddenly alien embrace.

The Fire Prince found himself standing at his full grown height, gripping Katara by the shoulders at arms length. Her sapphire blue eyes gazed into his gold ones imploringly, her tan cheeks streaked with tears.

"Zuko… why…?" She voiced wordlessly.

The ocean came pouring out of those two cerulean eyes, the waters rushing around them in a wild whirlpool. The garden, the butterflies, and the fountain, along with his father, uncle and the strange woman, dissolved instantly in the torrent.

Zuko said nothing as he leaned in, gathering the water girl in his arms. She felt like bunches of satin ribbons, soft and silky and light as feathers. He wanted nothing more in life now, the fire in his soul screaming to become one with this beautiful girl. His soft, parted lips brushed hers—

And the girl exploded in a cloud of steam, searing the left side of his face. He screamed in agony and anguished loss. The whirlpool around him collapsed, catapulting his body into the dense weightlessness of the ocean depths. It invaded him, seeping into any space it could get into, pressing into his mind, his soul, drowning him, dissolving him, diluting him, extinguishing his life forever—

Zuko snapped awake, almost crying out. He was drenched in sweat, practically gasping for air, his heart beating madly in his chest. He'd fallen asleep while meditating again. He'd dreamt…

Zuko ran his palm over his sweaty face. It was the dream again. He'd been having it for the last two weeks in various forms and versions. Each time he woke, he would cry out, in pain, in agony, or in pure fear. So bad were these nightmares that Zuko had stopped sleeping. He meditated intently instead, preferring the stillness of inner reflection to the full-out deep sleep that nearly smothered him every night.

He sat still until his heart slowed, his panic draining away. He wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye and breathed deeply. _It's just a dream_, he kept telling himself. But it was more than that...

He felt it again, that sickening moment of comprehension as he plummeted towards the rocky shallows at the base of the cliffs of Ho'Wan Island. In those terrifying three seconds of freefall, the Prince of the Fire Nation glimpsed his short 16 years and felt empty. He would have died young, stupidly, and without reason. And for once in his life, he had accepted it all and did not fight his fate.

It had been a simple fact to understand and was surprisingly easy to accept: death was part of the natural order of things, and he was going to die. And for half a second, he was alright with that. Happy, almost, that the pain would finally come to an end.

And then it hadn't. He had plunged into the water with a great slap, cold and sharp as ice. He surfaced in bewilderment, wondering why death had let him escape so easily.

Why had it forsaken him? Why was he allowed to live? The fear and shame he felt rubbed his emotions raw until he was practically numb. The only feelings he could muster radiated from the image trapped in brain: two blue eyes.

Zuko broke from his moody reverie as he realized the familiar rumble of the engines was strangely absent. Uncle Iroh must have stopped to get water, he thought, and wondered which port they had stopped in. One with a nice market, no doubt. He gathered together his towel and sponge and headed to the bath. That would calm his nerves. Then he'd take a stroll through town later to clear his mind—

Except that when he stepped out of his cabin, he was greeted by a boisterous uproar and the sweet, damp, woody smell of the tropical forest.

The late afternoon sun shone like liquid gold on the scene below. His men – _all _of his men – were on the beach, sitting around an unnecessarily large campfire, eating from crudely opened tins and jars, playing kickball, or playing their eclectic collection of musical instruments.

And they were drinking mead. A _lot _of mead.

"Prinsukozabest capn' an'where!" A soldier slurred, dizzily toasting the bewildered Prince with his half-empty bottle. A host of the sailors heartily hailed him in agreement.

"Nephew! How are you?" Iroh came staggering up the ramp grinning broadly, a jar of brandied peaches in hand. A little spoon jutted from it.

"Uncle…?" Zuko asked slowly and quietly. "What is all this?" Zuko's hoarseness scared Iroh out of his giddy state. He expected angry shouts, death threats, surly sneers, and a fit violence. He certainly wasn't expecting the soft, hushed, and only slightly annoyed tones this youth was murmuring.

"Prince Zuko," Iroh took his nephew's elbow. "The men are toasting you tonight. They've had a long, hard journey and need some time to unwind. Much like yourself." He began to lead him down the ramp. "Come, sit and have something to eat. The chef's found some papayas and other delicious fruits around here. A glass of mead probably wouldn't hurt you either, eh?"

Zuko pulled away. "I'm tired, Uncle Iroh. I'm going to take a bath." He headed back up the ramp.

"Oh, the bath is out of order right now!" Iroh called up to him.

The prince turned. "What? That's our private bath. What did you do, uncle?"

"Oh, well, we couldn't eat the melons without chilling them first. The tub's full right now." Iroh grinned and waited for his nephew to explode. He hoped the boy would explode. Zuko was holding something in, and whatever it was, it was smothering the boy's virile intensity, taking the spark out of his nephew's life.

He waited for the explosion, but nothing fazed the young man. He looked exhausted, a dark circle forming in the hollow of his good, unscarred eye, his pale skin clammy with sweat. Zuko's eyes simply moved over the revelers, taking in their carefree merriment, and he silently made his way down the ramp, walking steadily into the forest.

"Where are you going?" Iroh called to him.

"To bathe," Zuko replied apathetically. "See that I'm not disturbed."

* * *

_The water here is cool and clean and pure and good, like her. I think sometimes that when she swims, she may lose herself entirely in the pool and dissolve away… but she has always come back to me, laughing and splashing. _

_I am beyond joyful that we found each other. We're so different, yet so alike. _

_I think I could love her for the rest of eternity in this paradise. _

* * *

Katara quickly found a streamlet babbling through the forest and she followed it some distance to a beautiful cascading waterfall emptying into a deep pool. The pool, in turn, fed a number of little streams that ran into the forest, feeding the trees and shrubs with mineral-rich glacial water, each streamlet ultimately joining with the wide blue ocean. A deep, calming presence overwhelmed Katara here. She felt as though she were one with her element, and could practically feel the lapping of the pool on the shore, the trickle of water tripping over the rocks, even the almost imperceptible melting and shifting movements of the ice in the mountain. Her skin crawled in a rather pleasant way as she listened to the rush of the water. 

The waterfall was beautiful. The silver white foam born of the cascading water danced on the clear pool. The lush green foliage shushed around Katara as the wind rustled through the trees and tousled her braided hair. She drank the clean air deeply through her nostrils and felt the serenity of the forest pulsing through her veins. The water told her all was good, all was safe.

Katara removed her robe and scrubbed at the berry juice stains as she knelt at the edge of the pool, wearing only her tights and undergarments. The stains came out surprisingly easily, dissipating in the water in a faint cloud of pink. She toyed with the idea of plunging into the water for a real bath, but her hands ached from washing her garments in the freezing water. She fought the compulsion to walk right into the pool, clothes on and all. It seemed to call to her as it babbled: _dive in, immerse yourself, become one with us, sister..._

Katara shook herself. The water was just too cold to bathe in, and she knew plenty about hypothermia. The best she could do was use the sopping robe to wipe her neck and face, her exposed arms, and whatever else she could easily reach. She wrung out the robe, drank deeply from the pool, and filled the water skin before dressing in her spare change of clothes.

As she gathered her things together, Katara heard something in the bushes. It was stomping towards her. She knew better than to call out when she didn't know who or what it was, so she grabbed her things and hastily jumped into a thicket of bushes off to one side. The Water girl crouched low, watching through a chink in the dense foliage growth, praying it was Aang, or Sokka, or Momo, or Appa, or just some stray animal coming for a drink. _Oh please, don't let it be..._

Katara's stomach did a little flip-flop. A lean, muscular stranger strode quietly through the brush and into a clearing. He was shirtless and wore only black silk pants, a towel slung over one shoulder. Katara couldn't see his face right away, but the way the man carried himself was eerily familiar. He stood at the edge of the pool, slowly removing his sandals.

In hindsight, Katara would tell herself she should have recognized the shaved scalp right away, and would make excuses about never having seen him in anything other than armour. But the simple truth was that she was a little distracted by his rippling, well-defined mid-section. So when the man turned to place his towel on a rock, Katara nearly yelped in surprise.

It was Prince Zuko.

Getting undressed. To bathe.

* * *

**Sorry ladies (and gents, if such is your inclination), you'll have to wait for the next chappie... and before you ask, no, Zuko does not own a rubber ducky, though I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who'd like to be his squeeze toy... the question is, does Katara? Oooh, intrigue! **  



	3. Ch 3: Just Don't Drop the Soap

** I don't own Avatar: the Last Airbender. If I did, there'd be a lot more scenes like the one you're about to read...**

**(Get out the ice and fans, ladies... he's not called the Fire Prince for nuthin'...)**

* * *

Katara's heart stopped and couldn't decide whether to rush into her throat or drop into the pit of her stomach. As she watched Prince Zuko standing at the edge of the pool, wide-eyed and trembling, she wanted very much to run away, grab her brother and Aang, jump onto Appa's back, and flee for their lives. 

And yet, beneath all that fear, her hatred boiled, her blood grew hot, and she was absolutely appalled that his mere existence should spoil what had been turning into a great day. She wanted to curse at him, throw rocks at him, push his stupid scarred head under the water and hold it there until he stopped squirming. But she was trapped, resting on her haunches in the forest's undergrowth just metres away from their greatest adversary.

Their greatest, shirtless adversary…

_…Oh my…_

Katara forced herself to look away as the prince loosened his drawstring and slipped out of his silk drawers. They fluttered down onto the gravel silently. The water girl concentrated intently on a rock lying on the ground instead, her cheeks burning, her throat dry. But she dared not move. As her delicate, burning ears detected sounds of splashing, she chanced another glimpse and regretted it instantly as the prince had only waded knee-deep into the water, bent over and in the process of testing the freezing water by running his hands experimentally through it.

The roaring of the waterfall seemed to grow louder in Katara's ears as she sat, fixated by the exposed prince's sinewy form gracefully moving deeper into the pool to waist height. He was so pale against the deep blackness of the pool, the sunlight seemed to glare off his skin.

Thank gods he's facing the other way, she thought. She pressed her tongue on the inside of her cheek and chewed on it nervously. Only the water girl's churning subconscious admitted the taint of regret in that thought, but a hundred dark and nasty ideas rushed into Katara's mind, drowning out any intriguing notions she might conjure. Her loathing for Zuko welled inside her, overpowering her fear and embarrassment. Could she end his life right now? Drown him by bending the water to suck his body to the bottom of the pool? Even if she wanted to, she didn't know how. The rock she'd been staring at might make a handy tool for bashing his skull in. Maybe I could strangle him with his own fancy pants, she mused.

But Katara was no killer. She knew it just wasn't in her nature. The most she could bring herself to do at this point was throw rocks at him and scream. She wasn't sure she even had the strength to do more than that. Of course, she wasn't about to reveal herself while he was naked, although that would have put the prince in a compromising position, she smirked. She would definitely enjoy walking out there right now, pointing and laughing.

Her brain played a quick warning image of Zuko spotting her and unhesitatingly leaping out of the water to capture her. Naked.

Mortified at herself, she turned back to watch. How could he stand the cold? She wondered openly. It must be one of the benefits of being from the Fire Nation – hot blood. He barely flinched as the frigid water rose to embrace his narrow hips. With a large sea sponge, he rhythmically began scrubbing his neck, shoulders, arms, back, and chest, water droplets glistening in the golden sunlight like jewels on his alabaster skin. He worked the sponge over himself intently.

Katara found herself stifling a sound in her throat. Laughter? Choking? It might even have come out a moan if she'd let it escape her lips. Still, she dared not stir in her hiding place.

The Prince bent over, the muscles in his ivory back tensing into cables, as he scrubbed things below the waist Katara did not want to think about. At all.

Not really.

Well, maybe a little.

_Stop it_, she told herself firmly, closing her eyes and wiping the smile that had crept into her lips off her face. _He's after Aang. He's the enemy. And he'll hurt you… again_.

Her eyes popped opened again as she heard more splashing. Zuko was pressing the sponge to his face, meticulously washing behind his ears, the back of his neck, tracing his jaw line. He worked at the right side of his face, stroking the hollows of his cheeks and eyes. He very gently dabbed at the scarred left side of his face, caressing the purple-red scar along its fleshy grain with the soft sponge.

_Momma taught him well_, Katara smirked again to herself. _After all, she always said wash your neck, or start growing potatoes_...

Zuko immersed the sponge in the water and squeezed the clear, cold water over himself, his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted. He repeated this motion several times, his furrowed face growing less and less tense with each pass of the water-laden sponge.

Katara was suddenly keenly aware that she could feel her element running coolly across his body. Her robe suddenly felt overly constricting as she sensed every drop race down the curve of the prince's neck, curling around his broad shoulders and arms, pooling in the hollows of his collarbone, running freely down his chest and abdomen, raking rivulet fingers down his bare back.A stubborn drop of water hung on Zuko's bottom lip and she could almost taste the salt of his skin…

She shook herself woozily. What was wrong with her? She shut her eyes and her mind, and tried desperately to ignore the overwhelming rush of the waterfall that coaxed her from her hiding place. Her eyes snapped open to more splashing, as though the prince were gently slapping her awake. And as much as her mind screamed how inappropriate it was to even be in the same square mile the Firebender occupied, she couldn't stop herself from watching.

He undid the binding that kept his ponytail standing erect on his shorn scalp, wrapping the crimson fabric around his palm and wrist. The thick lock of raven hair cascaded over the back of his neck, and he washed it and his scalp with the soaked sponge. Once done, he expertly wrapped it back up in perfect Zuko-esque form with a few deft circular movements of his toned arms.

Katara didn't even realize she could barely feel her feet now, the circulation in her legs cut off at her rigidly constricted knees. Her legs were dangerously numb, beyond pins and needles, and she wouldn't know it until she tried to stand.

_Gods, how long does he take to wash?_ She asked herself in disbelief. _Even I don't take this long!_

Suddenly, Zuko turned around, tossing the sea sponge to the shore.

_Oh gods, I didn't just see that! _Katara's brain screamed at her, blocking out anything her innocent eyes might have thought they'd seen. She repeated a whispered, desperate mantra to herself, her eyes squeezed tightly shut: _I didn't just see that, _ _I didn't just see that,__I didn't just see that, __I didn't just see that,__Ididn'tjustseethatIdidn'tjustseethat…_

In truth, she hadn't seen anything. But a miniscule part of her brain badly wished it had, and made the wish reality with tricks of the light and a few leaves floating on the water's surface.

Katara, now redder than Fire Nation armour, chanced another quick look at the prince as he stood there, facing the rushing waterfall. He just stood there, transfixed, gazing at the cascading water plunging violently into the deep water. And as if he'd made a decision, he abruptly dove in, his lithe and supple body arching up, out, and into the deepest part of the freezing pool.

Katara quickly took advantage of this opportunity while Zuko's head was underwater and burst from her hiding place, stumbling loudly through the brush as her wobbling legs ached and burned and screamed in protest. She fell once, crawled a few paces before pushing herself up again, and ran, praying Aang and Sokka were all right. As she ran, the water girl trembled violently, slightly giddy with relief.

Or was that something else she felt?

* * *

_So pretty, so pretty… they're so pretty… _

_I wonder how much they're worth?_

* * *

Zuko had found the waterfall in a clearing some minutes walk away from the beachside landing site. The deep, cool waters reflected his lush surroundings, the rushing of the water murmuring softly in the air. One of the more sober men had helpfully suggested he follow the streamlet they were filling their canteens from. He had absently thanked the man and walked without paying much attention to his path following the trickle. As he made his way along the edge of the stream, ignoring the insect bites and thorns raking his bare chest and arms, he felt as though his mind was separated from his body. Nothing felt real, nothing felt tangible. He simply drifted, his legs walking of their own accord while his head floated just above his shoulders. 

The only things the prince could feel were locked up in his tormented brain, guarded by an unusual sentry.

_Blue eyes…_

The waterfall plummeted from an opening in the cliff face about ten metres up. It wasn't a very strong torrent of water, but uncounted years of glacial water flowing into the pool made it deep at the centre, its bottom smooth and sandy. Zuko stripped and waded in. He unconsciously increased his body temperature as the frigid water enveloped him, but he was too absorbed in his meditative self-reflection to notice as he methodically washed the nightmare sweat from his body. The water, though cold, felt good on his calloused skin, and he let it run over his body, feeling its sensual caress.

Thoroughly cleaned, Zuko stopped to watch the cascading water, the foam leaping about merrily. It playfully called to him, begging to be explored, run through, drunk. It was almost... flirtateous. He tossed his sponge to the shore and recklessly dove in, letting the icy chill take him.

It seemed strange that the peoples of the Fire Nation spent so much time with or on the water, yet so little time really enjoying it. They built massive warships of steel and iron to ride the element, used steam power in some cases to power them. Back home, some of the wealthier merchants and eccentric counts even had koi ponds in the gardens, or beautiful marble fountains plundered from the Earth Kingdom. But not many people he knew swam for fun. Most people from the Fire Nation could enjoy hot baths and steam rooms, but dry saunas were the preferred treatment for relaxation.

Zuko wondered if people from the Water Tribes swam. It would seem to be a reasonable conjecture, but their lands were so cold, it couldn't have been humanly possible, could it? Only his steely resolve and fine-tuned control of his own body temperature kept him comfortably immersed in the glacial pool. Then again, the people of the Water Tribes in the North had survived and thrived in the frigid wasteland of ice and snow for centuries. They probably had ways of getting around the cold.

The Fire Prince felt a strange pang in his chest as he realized the diminishing Water Tribe in the South Pole was probably next on the list of annihilation. Who could say where the war would take the Fire Nation? His father's forces were probably strong enough to storm both the Northern and Southern Tribes at once, sweeping over them in a final, blazing holocaust. Just like the Airbenders.

The thought disturbed him thoroughly as he submerged himself even deeper. Why should he even _care _what happened with the Water Tribes?

_Zuko… why…?_

The prince relaxed underwater, holding his breath, his eyes closed. He could hear the dull thrumming of the waterfall, and felt his body toss as the current pulled him in, sucking him deeper under. He didn't fight it. He just let it happen. It occurred to Zuko that though his nightmares enveloped him in crushing sluices of aquatic claustrophobia, he had no fear of this pool, or of any body of water, in fact. The ocean had always seemed calm and promising. Or it had lately, anyhow. It just seemed right somehow, to be floating the way he was. The weightless sensation of his limbs was soothing. His mind felt open, clear of thought and anything hot or hard or sharp. It was all soft edges and coolness.

_Is this what she felt like when she slept? Were her dreams filled with cool blue waters?_

Zuko let himself be carried away by the currents in his mind that he'd been damming and suppressing these past two weeks. His thoughts drifted almost immediately to the lovely water girl, Katara, an angel in the deep, swimming towards him, her unbraided hair loosely floating about her perfect face, reaching out to caress his naked form…

He felt his mouth twitch and let himself relax into smile, as though a happy sun were slowly rising in his chest. Slowly and blissfully, he opened his eyes underwater...

And found himself staring into a woman's horrified face.

* * *

**AAAHHHH! AAAHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!**

**Well, that's what you'd say too if you could see what Zuko sees... stay tuned!**


	4. Ch 4: Out Cold

**I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.**_  
_

_

* * *

_

_I dumped her into the pool. A rejected gift, like me._

_May she gaze upon her own grotesque visage every day._

* * *

Letting out a panicked bubble that would have been a yelp, Zuko kicked and scrambled, his lungs nearly bursting for air. He'd been dangerously pulled deeper than he'd thought. His head finally broke the surface, and he gasped, spluttered, and flailed as his knees scraped against the steep slope of the gravelly shoreline. He dragged himself up, shaking, and fell heavily onto his side in the rough dirt. 

But he wasn't on the shore. He was in a cave on the other side of the waterfall. The sun's yellow rays slanted through the silvery curtain of water, lighting the short earthen pathway into the mountain. Knuckling the water out of his eyes, Zuko peered warily into the pool and sighed in relief.

It hadn't been a woman he'd seen: it was a just statue, maybe hundreds of years old. The statue was missing its limbs, but by the positioning of the stumps, it appeared she once held both her arms out, either in supplication, or warning.

Zuko noticed one more detail that chilled him thoroughly.

The woman was dressed in Water Tribe robes.

He shuddered, turning away from the ghoulish statue, and looked into the cave. Strangely, a soft white light seemed to emanate from within. It was too pale a light to be the late day's yellow sun shafting through some gap in the mountain. What could it be?

Though he was still naked, Zuko decided it wouldn't hurt to explore, and he cautiously crept down the path, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dimness. Water dripped musically throughout the grotto. He walked a short distance in until the passage narrowed to a thin fissure just wide enough for him to fit through. He squeezed in sideways, and found himself in a huge cavern within the mountain.

Zuko gaped. The walls sparkled with crystal fragments. Tiny geodes, no bigger than his thumbnail, grew out of the walls, hung from stalactites and stalagmites, and littered the ground. Zuko realized with a start that the crystals were giving off the soft white light that filled the room.

His head spun in wonder. Is this some kind of diamond? What could it be worth? Not that he needed any more wealth - despite his banishment, the prince's personal coffers were nearly inexhaustible. But the delicate shards were just so... pretty. Zuko picked a loose crystal up off the ground and inspected it closely. The pale light filled his hand soothingly. It almost seemed to pulse, like a tiny white heartbeat.

He shivered again as though a wet, damp cloak had been placed over him. A cold, dark feeling crept into his mind. Something told him he needed to leave the cavern. Something wasn't quite right here, and it took all the courage he could muster to walk, not run, back out to the cave mouth.

He remembered with another shudder a story Uncle Iroh had told him about how this foreboding feeling was how you knew members of the Spirit World were trying to communicate with you. Those were ghost stories from a long-lost childhood, but Zuko was still thoroughly creeped out.

The Fire Prince reached the cave's shore and held the crystal fragment tightly in his fist as he dove back into the frigid water to cross the silvery curtain. He would bring it back to his uncle for inspection. If they turned out to be valuable in any way, he could send his men in to retrieve more for further study and appraisal.

As he swam under the waterfall, he pointedly refused to look back at the Water Tribe woman's stony, horrified face.

* * *

In her panic, Katara got a little lost. She blindly stumbled past the path to the campsite several times, retracing her steps when she realized she had gone too far. She tried very hard not to think about Zuko standing naked in the water, but she could not shake the sight of his pale skin from her mind. It had been like staring at the sun, the afterimage permanently burned into her retina. 

It was sunset when she finally ran into the campsite, out of breath and still feeling woozy from her embarrassing encounter. Sokka, Momo, and Appa were nowhere in sight, but Aang lay dozing peacefully by the fire.

"Aang! Aang! Wake up!" Katara threw her armload of damp laundry onto her unrolled sleeping bag and stumbled towards the monk. She grabbed him and shook him. "Wake up Aang! We have to get out of here! Where's Sokka?"

"Right here," Sokka emerged from the brush, his arms full of papayas and persimmons. "You'll never guess what I just found over there…"

_Oh, I hate papayas, _Katara thought, but there were more important things to think about that food at the moment.

"Sokka, Zuko and the Fire Nation are here!" Katara dizzily headed toward her brother, nearly tripping into the campfire. The floor was suddenly yanked out from under her. Her head throbbed. Images of naked, muscled Zuko flashed in her mind once more. _What's wrong with me?_ She blearily wondered.

Sokka leapt forward to catch his sister, dropping his fruit.

"Katara, what's wrong?" Sokka watched as his sister's eyes rolled back. Her head lolled limply on her neck and the colour drained from her face.

"I… I don't…" She fainted.

Sokka yelped and gently laid his sister down on her sleeping bag. He ran and shook Aang by the shoulders.

"Aang! Something's wrong with Katara, and there are Fire Nation soldiers here!"

The little monk did not stir. "Aang? AANG!" Sokka shook the boy, slapped him, shouted at him, and splashed water on the boy's face, but the Avatar was out cold.

Sokka went back and tried the same with his sister. She lay still as death. It was only her shallow breathing that assured him she was alive.

Sokka stood, desperately trying to come up with a plan of action. Appa had wandered away to graze, so he grabbed the bison whistle from Aang's pocket and blew it long and hard.

Of course, the problem with a whistle that doesn't make any sound was that Sokka didn't know how hard to blow it, but he couldn't care less if Appa's ears were ringing after this. He would pack up their camp, load Aang and Katara onto the bison's back, and fly all of them off the island before the Fire Nation found them.

He rolled up his sleeping bag and cleared the area of any trace they had ever been there. With any luck, Zuko and the other Fire troops would not find the campsite or see the bison fly away in the gathering dark. Though he knew that the fire could attract unwanted attention, Sokka left the two sleeping benders by the warmth of the flames, frantically trying to figure out what had happened to his two companions.

Could they be sick? He and Katara had both come down with a terrible flu after the storm they'd all been in. Yet neither of them seemed to have a fever, nor were they coughing or sneezing. On the bright side, at least they wouldn't have to suck on frozen frogs.

A thought struck him. Could it have been the berries? Panicking, Sokka wondered if he should induce vomiting, but he felt perfectly fine. Momo climbed down from the trees and peered at him quizzically. He seemed healthy too, and the furry little beast had eaten half again his own weight. Had Aang and Katara eaten anything different from him that day? He could think of nothing.

The young Water Tribe warrior hastened quietly around the camp as he packed, watching the shifting shadows out of the corners of his eyes. Every twisted branch and pointy bush looked like a menacing Fire Nation soldier in the orange glow of the camp fire. He kept his club tucked in his belt at his waist, his boomerang at the ready. His heart palpitated wildly while the growing dread in his stomach kept pace with the growing dark.

Sokka admitted it. He was afraid. And for the first time since he'd joined the Avatar, he felt truly alone.

* * *

_Nothing. I have nothing left except this life. This stinking life._

_Why has she rejected me? Why won't she accept my gifts? I could make her rich, powerful…_

_I hate him. He has taken her from me, and I hate him like nothing else._

_I will have to do something._

* * *

Zuko quickly toweled off and slipped back into his silk pants, pocketing the glowing crystal fragment and draping the damp towel over his shoulders. He was shivering uncontrollably, his teeth chattering noisily in his skull. Perhaps the water was colder than he had originally thought. 

He was about to head back to the landing site when he remembered the abandoned sponge. He knelt to pick it up and noticed something in the sand: two deep depressions, slowly filling with water.

They were too deep and short to be footprints, and much too close together. He rested on his haunches, and touched the sandy groove.

Knee prints. Someone had been on their knees by the water.

In the fading light, he noticed something floating on the water. He picked it up, pinched between his thumb and forefinger, and peered at it closely.

It was a bit of white fur. A fine blue thread was attached to it.

A picture formed itself very clearly in his mind. Katara, the water girl, kneeling on edge of the pool, drinking, or washing.

Or bathing.

He banished that last impure thought quickly before it threatened to overrun his imagination.

Zuko quickly got to his feet. There was no way it was coincidence. The Avatar and his two companions were here on the island right now.

_Katara is here._

His heart leapt. The numbness that had enveloped him over the past two weeks evaporated as hope surged in his chest, soaring on phoenix wings. The burning conviction rekindled itself into a blaze. The hunt was on again. Zuko could practically smell the Avatar in the forest.

_Katara is here_, the thought came more insistently, but he ignored it.

Zuko shivered, trembling violently with excitement and cold. He hastily formulated a plan as he marched through the woods as quickly and quietly as possible: get the soldiers, fan out, and search the forest. They would have to be camping nearby for the girl to have been this close to him. And they'd have to be quiet. The last thing they needed was to rouse the giant flying bison or the Avatar's flying big-eared monkey thing into sounding the alarm.

And then he remembered the scene he had so apathetically left before his bathing adventure. The memory of the singing, brawling, and boisterous crew drinking on the beach urged Zuko to break into a run.

Why hadn't he noticed the prints before? What had distracted him for so long from his goal? How could he have so quietly abandoned his pursuit for honour? Zuko felt intermingling flickers of fury and disgust at himself for being so indolent, while at the same time tasting the bloodlust of being so close to his prey. He fumed. How could he not have missed this sensation before?

And why was he so damn cold?

He concentrated on raising his body temperature, but nothing happened. He focused on his open palm and tried to conjure up a small fireball, but it didn't appear. Frustrated, Zuko threw the damp towel off and summoned all his energy into lighting his arms on fire.

Nothing. His eyes widened in alarm and he stopped dead in his tracks.

The passion, fury, and raw emotions that were the source of his power were there aplenty, but there was nothing to ignite the flame. No spark. No fire to express the rage rising in his chest.

He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself using the techniques Uncle Iroh had taught him, and quickly moved through the basic Firebending forms. _Fire comes from the breath,_ he told himself in his uncle's irritating rumble. _Remember your basics. _

Any minute now he'd be telling himself to calm down and have a cup of tea.

His arms came up, his legs came down, he danced the deadly dance of the Firebender in the middle of the darkening forest. He should be ablaze by now, but there was nothing, not a single wisp of smoke. He was empty. He was cold. He was at the mercy of the world. If something didn't burn soon, he felt his heart might freeze over with icy fear.

_Don't panic…_

Dusk was settling over the forest. Zuko had no lantern to light his way – he had always been his own lantern. So he took off, his mind shrouded in darkness, tracing the path back to the beach before what little light left in the sky disappeared altogether.

He had never admitted it to anyone, but he'd always been just a bit afraid of being alone the dark.

* * *

**I had a very interesting online chat with Rashaka, who pointed out the virtues of Zuko not pointedly admitting to himself that he was in love with Katara. I have to fully agree, so if you happen to see Zuko flip-flopping a lot about his feelings, well, chalk it up to hormones. Admittedly, he's too young to know what love is, but he's more mature than most 16-year-olds... we'll just have to see he reacts to Katara's presence on this MYSTERIOUS island, eh?**  



	5. Ch 5: Chills and Choices

**A note: I mentioned in the first couple of chapters that Aang was 12. In my universe, he had just celebrated his 13th birthday on Ho'Wan Island. So there you go. He's 13. Deal with it.  
**

**I'm going to dedicate this chapter to Rashaka, whose drabble Game On I almost stole. I don't know how I managed it, but I read it, and commented on it, and then proceeded to write a very similar piece. And I didn't even realize I had done it, either. So Rashaka, my sincerest apologies once more. Here's your chapter.**

* * *

"C'mon, where are you Appa?" Sokka stamped about nervously. He had blown the whistle repeatedly over the last twenty minutes, and his lungs hurt from the exertion. The flying bison did not appear. Momo perched by the sleeping Aang, pawing at his face in worry. Still, the Avatar did not rise. 

It must have been berries, Sokka reasoned. But if that's so, why haven't I fallen down dead on the ground?

Maybe it was a bender thing. Maybe since he wasn't a bender, he wasn't affected by whatever poison or drug the berries contained.

The thought brought a lump to his throat. That same afternoon, he had been angry and bitter about not having special powers like the two fledgling benders. Now he wished he could take it all back. It wasn't so great being the lone hero.

Sure, he could hold his own in a fight. Sure, he could defend himself. But he had never stopped to ask himself how he could protect his own friends and family. If Fire Troops attacked now, how could he possibly protect Aang and Katara while they were unconscious?

It had been too long since he'd blown the whistle for Appa. Pacing, Sokka turned to the lemur. "Momo, go find and Appa and bring him back here," he said.

Momo sat there and stared at him uncomprehendingly, his bright green eyes glowing ominously in the dark.

"Momo, I need you to help me now," Sokka enunciated slowly. "Find Appa and bring him here." He mimicked the bison by lumbering around, his fingers pointing out like horns.

The lemur sat resolutely by Aang's shoulder, whimpering. His big ears drooped.

"You stupid lemur! I need your help now!" Sokka yelled. Momo screeched and leapt into the branches, uttering feeble lemur curses at the boy.

Sokka sighed and sank down next to his sleeping sister. He felt more helpless than ever. For all he knew, the two could be dying. He felt a sob catch in his throat. He wouldn't let that happen. He had to protect his little sister. He had promised dad he would.

The water boy glanced at the sleeping Avatar. Aang's innocent features glowed in the firelight, soft and almost petulant. He had turned over on his side, and Sokka grimaced as he noticed a little trickle of drool running down the side of his cheek.

A cold, dark thought encroached upon him. If it hadn't been for Aang, they wouldn't be here right now. He remembered the iceberg and that fateful day Katara's own emotional outburst had cracked open the Avatar's hermetic enclosure. He wished they had never—

No. He wasn't going to say it. It wasn't true. But in his heart he felt a gaping void yawning wider and wider at his feet, threatening to consume him. The wishes and should-haves of the world weighed heavier every minute they stayed on this island.

_D__on't panic Sokka, if you wait until morning, things might get better._

_Or they might get worse_, he countered. _What would dad do?_

For what seemed like a long time, Sokka stared between his sister and the Avatar, thinking. Finally, he made one of the most difficult choices he had ever made.

"Momo, stay here and watch these two," he said, shouldering his backpack and making a torch. He lit it on the fire. "I'm going to find Appa." He strode into the darkness, leaving his sister and the 12… no wait, 13-year-old Avatar in the hands of the flying lemur.

It had suddenly occurred to Sokka they had celebrated Aang's birthday back at Ho'Wan: had it really only been two weeks ago? He shook himself and focused on the task at hand.

Find Appa. That was almost the truth. He'd try to spot the giant bison (after all, how hard could it be to spot a huge furry animal with an arrow on his head?) but if something had happened to him, he'd go to find help.

Even if it meant that help came from the Fire Nation.

* * *

_He is strong, he is my strength._

_He kept the other one from me. Protected me from his strange gifts._

_He is so strange. He frightens me._

_I don't know what I would do without him. I love him so much, I think sometimes I would like to become one with him, in the water, that we may never leave each other's embrace…_

* * *

"Uncle Iroh!" Zuko called into the darkness. The light was almost gone now, but the Fire Prince went on, shivering. Why-oh-why hadn't he worn a shirt? 

He kicked a tree stump in anger. Stupid idiot! He'd been so absorbed in whatever funk he'd allowed himself to sink into that he could not recognize the trail he had originally taken, or the one he was on now. He could only reason that the numerous streams flowing out of the pool all led to the ocean and the beach. He would figure out his position from there.

So on he walked in the gloom, shivering and damning his own foolish emotions for occupying so much of his precious time. The emotions that all centered around…

_Katara._

Damn that water peasant! Zuko gritted his teeth and balled his fist tightly. It would have been an inferno if his bending abilities were working. He punched another tree hatefully, screaming in frustration when it didn't satisfyingly burst into flaming splinters, bloodying his knuckles instead. _Damn tree!_

How could he have let some girl preoccupy him? A lowly water girl? He groaned at himself as he realized that only two weeks ago, he had actually allowed himself to admit he was in love with her. Him! A prince of the Fire Nation! In love with a Water Tribe peasant! Ridiculous!

"Hah!" He shouted out loud. _Hormones_, he told himself. Iroh muttered the word to crew members whenever he was trying to excuse his nephew's erratic behaviour. Hormones. That was it. He didn't even _like _the Waterbender girl. That had been someone else. That had been that other Zuko who didn't exist.

The blue eyes flashed in his mind.

_Zuko… why…?_

Zuko reeled. The images seemed to come to him in stronger and in more potent waves. The sound of the whirlpool in his dreams roared in his ears now. He blinked, finding himself on his knees, clutching his chest as he fought off the waking nightmare.

He was so cold.

Zuko forced himself onto his feet and marched on resolutely in the dark. His bleary eyes thought he saw a warm firelight off in the distance: at last, he was approaching the revelers, dancing in the dark.

The Fire Prince burst through the bushes, calling for his uncle. He stopped dead in his tracks. This wasn't the landing site at all.

He had stumbled upon the Avatar's camp.

And there was the Avatar, curled up on a sleeping bag. On the other side of the fire lay the water girl.

Zuko held his breath, looking around. He was completely defenseless against the Avatar. He had no weapons, no armour, and no Firebending powers to keep him at bay. And he had just shouted loud enough to wake up a whole platoon of men.

But no one stirred. Zuko couldn't see the other one anywhere – the Water Tribe boy, Katara's brother. Was he hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike?

He stood frozen for another minute, every muscle in his body tensed. The fire crackled and wavered before him.

After what felt like eternity, he slowly unhinged himself from his panicked lock. He glanced around, watching for movement in the shadows. Nothing came at him. That didn't mean he was safe, not by a long shot – he remembered the smart of the water boy's boomerang, after all.

Where _was _the water boy? Perhaps he'd gone to relieve himself, or was taking the evening's first watch. Surely he would be back soon? He wouldn't just leave the sleeping Airbender and his defenseless sister upon the ground unguarded, would he?

He looked upon the sleeping Waterbender and felt something within him stir. She lay on her back on top of a lumpy pile of cloth. Her tan features glowed warmly in the firelight, but her lips seemed pale. Her head was awkwardly turned to one side. Almost unnaturally…

Zuko's stomach dropped out from under him.

_No…_

He leapt to her side and pressed his fingertips to her neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there, but just barely. Her breath was shallow and laboured. He turned her onto her back and heard her lungs clear and she took in a sharp breath of air, but she did not awaken.

Zuko let out a held breath in relief. Her awkward positioning had nearly closed her windpipe and cut off her oxygen supply, but she was still alive. As an afterthought, he carefully moved the soggy clothing out from under her and repositioned her body on the cushy sleeping bag, cradling her head so it rested comfortably on the ground. Still, she did not wake.

And as the prince pulled away, he realized with a mighty blush that he had just touched her very intimately. And yet, it had seemed so natural to him to simply pick her up the way he had and lay her back down on the soft bedding. The coolness of her skin and rough clothing felt so familiar against his bare chest, as if she had been borne in the crook of his arms.

The thing stirring within him paced restlessly, like a tiger in a small cage peering out at him with dark blue eyes. It begged to be let out of its prison.

The Fire Prince slapped himself. What was he doing nursing the water wench? The Avatar! The Avatar was right there! This was his moment! His honour was within his grasp!

Zuko abruptly stood, advancing on the sleeping monk, when he felt the blood rush from his head, black spots appearing in his vision. They didn't go away. He sat down hard on the packed dirt by the fire.

_This isn't good,_ he dizzily murmured to himself. Perhaps the chill was making him sick. He sat for a moment, regaining his balance, and slowly crawled head down towards the fire. Just a few minutes to warm up, he thought woozily as he crawled, ignoring the impending danger of the water boy's return.

A smug thought entered his mind: _Ha! I'd love to see the look on his face if he came back and I was all over his sister!_

The tiger in his soul growled hungrily. He quieted it by focusing his attention on the still-sleeping Avatar.

As he looked up, Zuko found the Avatar's big-eared monkey-thing staring at him from his perch on the boy's shoulder. Its round green eyes watched him questioningly, as though asking, "_Why do you care so much about the girl?_"

"Go away," he shooed the creature ineffectually.

Momo didn't budge, nor did he attack the strange-smelling Fire Prince. He growled at him warningly.

Zuko frowned and picked up a rock. "I said GO AWAY!" He whipped it as hard as he could, but missed widely. The creature flinched, but did not retreat, his hackles raised defensively as he stared at the teen. The prince sighed and let the creature be.

Zuko took stock of the situation. He was lost in the dark in the woods. He was ill, and could barely move. He had no ability to Firebend. He had no clothes to protect him from the night that, while mild, made him feel like he was in the South Pole again.

The Avatar seemed to be worse off, unconscious and limp as a noodle, but Zuko was in no condition to be slinging him over his shoulder to triumphantly carry back to his ship.

So close and yet so far, he thought bitterly through his blurring vision. What was wrong with him? He looked from Katara's sleeping form to the Avatar's blearily. What was wrong with them? Why was everything here so strange?

Zuko barely noticed when his head hit the ground.

* * *

_I'll get rid of him if it's the last thing I do…_

_

* * *

_

Sokka held the torch high over his head, spreading the orange glow in as wide a circumference as he could. He had no idea where he was headed, but he was convinced something had happened to the great flying bison the same way something had happened to his friend and sister.

He regretted leaving their sides as soon as he stepped foot out of the campsite. As he walked, the shadows in his mind grew and wavered, mimicking the ones in the forest all around him.

What if some nasty predators attacked the sleeping pair? Momo wouldn't be able to take care of them: he'd be the appetizer! Or what if the Fire Nation found them? They'd take Aang back in chains, and his sister… he didn't even want to think about what a bunch of dirty, stinking soldiers would do to a teenage girl as their prisoner.

At that thought, Sokka whirled around on his heel, ready to head back, but his eye caught the gold glimmer of firelight.

Zuko's camp.

Judging by the distance and brightness, they had built up a huge bonfire. Typical Fire Nation, Sokka scowled, always burning more than they need to. Those greedy, warmongering...

He stopped himself. He'd need their help to figure out what was wrong with Aang and Katara. If he were anything less than perfectly civil and gracious to his blood-sworn enemies, they'd all be left to die.

_What, you think the Fire Nation will just help you? They'll take the Avatar and leave you and your sister to die on this island!_

_Maybe their medic will obey his oath to serve and protect the sick and needy_, he reasoned hopefully.

_And maybe their medic is a torture specialist_, he countered.

Sokka stood there, staring at the winking yellow light in the distance. _This is no time to hesitate. The faster I get help, the faster I can get back to Aang and Katara._

Sokka marched forth, steeling himself for what he hoped was not going to be the biggest mistake of his life.

* * *


	6. Ch 6: The InBetween

** I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.**_  
_

_

* * *

_

_I saw them coming, saw them half a mile away._

_She didn't need to be here. I should have hidden her. Hidden both of us._

_I thought I could protect her. We couldn't run. Where would we go?_

_So this is the price of an island paradise… no escape…_

* * *

_Avatar..._

Aang lay still, his eyes closed. He did not want to open them.

_Avatar..._

A cold _something _slithered over his face. He shivered, but refused to open his eyes. Why, he could not say. Only that he knew that when he did, he would not like what he'd see.

_Avatar, we need your help..._

_It is your duty..._

_Your duty..._

The voices became more eerie, more insistent. The cold drifting things brushed over his arms and shoulders, raising goose bumps all over his body.

_Oh, for gods' sake... _HEY AVATAR!

The shout came so loudly in his ear that Aang jumped straight up from his prone position on the hard ground. He looked around in panic.

"I... I'm in the Spirit Realm..." It came out more of a question. But the Avatar's spiritual sensitivity told him this wasn't the Spirit Realm at all. It was colder, harder, yet more dreamlike.

As he glanced around him, he yelped.

Ghosts! Not spirits, but wraiths, the degrading shadows of the formerly living. He was surrounded by them, hundreds of unrecognizable human forms, hollow-eyed phantoms, their ghostly flesh peeling away from their skulls, their shredded spectral clothing fluttering on a non-existent breeze.

But that wasn't all. The forms of other creatures - bears, cats, badgers, and things he couldn't recognize, all drifted about, moaning or grunting or making ghastly animal noises.

_Avatar..._

One hideous figure approached, a man in Fire Nation armour.

"Waaaahh!" Aang leapt away and into a cluster of long-haired wraith women. Their misty forms felt like spider webs clinging to his skin and he panicked, brushing them off with flailing arms.

A strange quadruped creature came snuffling along, grunting and screeching hollowly. Aang backed away in terror.

"Oh will you bunch stop scaring the poor boy and let me talk to him?" A rough voice shouted in exasperation.

Aang turned. The other wraiths parted to reveal a single ghost, oddly dressed in leggings, high boots, and a knee-length tunic. His salt-and-pepper hair was bushy and stuck out at odd angles. He was mostly whole, except for a gaping hole in the centre of his chest.

"Wh-What... who are you?" Aang stammered, backing away.

"My name's Fonquay. Lord Fonquay. How do you do?" The mostly-whole (mostly hole!) ghost tipped an imaginary hat. Aang wasn't sure whether or not to laugh. It just wasn't kind to laugh at the dead.

"I'm Aang," he introduced himself hesistantly. "Listen, I know I'm the link between the Spirit Realm and the land of the living and all, but this isn't the Spirit Realm I'm used to. Where am I, and how'd I get here?"

"Ah, you're a bright one! I can see that now." Fonquay said. "You're right about this not being the Spirit Realm. We who live here have no name for it..." The strange wraith intoned spookily. "...And let me tell you, it's hard to tell folks where you're from when there's no name for it."

Aang stared at him quietly. A stray ghost in the distance coughed.

"Sorry, hanging out with this bunch tends to make you a little weird after a couple hundred years."

_Just a little?_ Aang thought, eyeing the strange ghost man up and down.

"You're in what I like to call the In-Between," Lord Fonquay continued. "It's not anywhere close to the Spirit Realm, but it's a whole 'nother world away from where you come from."

Aang looked around. He was not standing in the camp as he would have been if he were in the Spirit Realm. Here, the space the specters filled seemed to be a grey mass of fog. He could see no horizon, only the never-ending clouds of translucent bodies hovering inches above the ground.

At least in the Spirit Realm, there was a change of scenery. Since it co-existed with the realm of the living, you could move around the world and see new things without suffering the laws of physics and boundaries of the real world. Here, there was nothing but greyness.

"I don't understand. Are you all… uh…" Aang hesitated.

"Dead as a doornail, my young friend," Fonquay announced. He grinned and bent to whisper lowly in his ear. "It's okay to say it to me, though some of the folk here prefer the term 'Living Impaired.'"

_Cough cough._

"Oh." For a second time, Aang wasn't sure whether or not to laugh at the "Living Impaired".

"Here's the thing, Avatar," the ghost Lord sat as much as his floating body would allow him. Aang followed suit. "We're all tired of being here, and want to move on. This place is big, but it's getting a little crowded, as you can see. We need your help to leave this place."

"How did you get here?" Aang asked.

Fonquay folded his arms, thinking. "That's a long story. Let me try and shorten it for you."

* * *

"A long time ago, before the four nations were formed, the peoples of this world lived in bitter rivalries against one another. Villages fought each other, brother against brother, element against element. War and violence and intolerance were the only things people knew. Progress was slow, and life meant staying alive for another day to fight. 

"The Water Tribe villages in the south warred with each other just as much as the Fire Nation cities warred with each other. And that is where our story begins.

"A young southern Waterbending woman who hated the wars left her homeland to seek a place where there would be no more cruelty or pain or violence. She took a small and sturdy boat and sailed north, never turning back, hoping to find some place she could call home.

"After a long and arduous journey, she found this island. It was paradise, warm, uninhabited, and virtually untouched by the wars raging around her. Here, she made her new peaceful home.

"Some time later, while she lived on the island, she received a permanent guest: a young man from the Fire Nation cities. He, too, had stolen away on his own boat, seeking refuge from the never-ending wars of his fiery homelands. The two fell in love at first sight, and together they made their home on the island.

"Sadly, paradise did not last. The young man was a noble warlord's son and heir, and was slated to take control of his father's army when the great warlord passed on.

"The young man wanted no such life for himself, wanted nothing to do with the war, so he had slipped away in the night, promising never to return. Unfortunately for him, a crafty and ambitious general had the warlord's son followed to the island. The General wanted to lead the army himself, and become the second in line for the warlord's great fortune and power.

"After only a few short months together, the water woman and fire man were seized by the general and his troops. They executed the noble warlord's son and would return with his ashes, claiming the boy had drowned. They were going to take the exotic looking woman back with them as a present to the warlord, but in her grief and anger, she cursed them all, and with mighty Waterbending skills the likes you can barely imagine, she drowned them, taking her own life with theirs."

* * *

Aang gaped. "That's terrible," he said. "So… why are you here?" 

"There's more to this story, young Avatar. Be patient please." Fonquay assured.

* * *

"The young couple lived on the island's main mountain by a lake. This is where they built their home, their lives. It was this lake the water woman used to drown the General's soldiers. 

"But she didn't just drown the men: oh no, that would have been far too lenient a punishment. The water she bent crushed them to a pulp, liquefied them, if you will. And when their armour was nothing but sand, and their metal weapons turned into sparkling confetti, she froze them into one giant glacier, cursing them to suffer for eternity together. Yup, one big, bloody, meaty glacier."

"Bleach! Gross!" Aang squirmed, screwing up his face. He was suddenly glad the iceberg he had been trapped in for the last hundred years was meat-free.

"Of course, the woman didn't know her curse would be so powerful. As time went on, the glacier melted to reform the lake, but any creature that drank from it would pass into the In-Between. Here, that is," Fonquay gestured around him. "That's how I got here, two-hundred-or-so years ago. I was traveling around, exploring the world, and I came upon this island and found the remnants of the couple's cabin. I took a bath and drank from the lake and next thing I know, poof! Here I am."

"So, all these people here are people that have been to the island and drank the water?" Aang asked.

"More specifically, they're all benders. For some reason, non-benders aren't affected by this curse. It might be because all the soldiers were Firebenders, but I can't say for sure."

Aang chewed his lower lip in thought. "Wait a sec. I didn't drink any water."

Fonquay stopped him. "Let me tell you some things about this curse first, Avatar. One: the glacial lake in the mountain is cursed. Anyone who drinks directly from it will immediately die and come to this place.

"Two: the glacier has been passing through the rock and earth of the mountain. This filtration process has weakened the potency of the curse in the water, but it is still very dangerous. The cursed glacial water runs like poisoned blood throughout this island, feeding the trees and flowers and—"

"The berries!" Aang exclaimed, eyes wide. "Am I going to…?"

"Don't worry, Avatar, I think you're a special case. Though I imagine you're going to have a mighty headache, maybe a bit of a stomachache. And maybe some difficulties… but never mind that…"

Another thought struck him hard. "Katara! She was going to wash and get drinking water before I fell asleep! What if she…?"

"What if I what, Aang?" Katara floated up next to him, a sad smile on her face.

* * *

**Eep! (Vicki dodges flames) **


	7. Ch 7: The Fire Wavers, The Water Recedes

** I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.**

* * *

Aang stared numbly at the ghostly girl, open-mouthed, the tears unwilling to come. Katara. Katara had passed into the In-Between. She was lost forever to him. She— 

Katara looked away, as if something had caught her attention over her shoulder. She vanished.

Aang jumped. "What happened? Where's Katara?" He was hysterical. It couldn't be true, it couldn't be true, not his lovely Katara, not the beautiful girl who had awaken him from his century-long slumber; she was his mother, his soul mate, his life…

Fonquay made "calm down" motions with his ghostly hands. "She's not stuck here yet. Her body is still alive and well and she is clinging to the mortal plain. But she doesn't have a lot of time. We need to break this curse before she transfers herself here fully."

Aang ground his teeth, resolute. "Tell me what to do."

* * *

Sokka crept as quietly as he could, circling wide around the Fire Nation troops' campsite so he could approach from the beach. He wanted to make sure he wasn't mistaken for a wild creature in the bushes and get roasted by some fire-happy soldier. 

His plan was a simple one. He would walk up and say, "please help my sister and that boy who looks like the Avatar but isn't." And they would, and they'd live happily ever after.

_Right! And Fire Lord Ozai will make peace with the world too!_

Sokka's stomach growled, but not in hunger. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the lack of a proper diet and stress was giving him an ulcer. He felt stupid. He felt weak. But his sister's life was worth feeling and looking like a moronic coward.

He would do anything for her, up to and including getting help from the Fire Nation. He had promised dad he'd keep her safe.

The sand was fine and soft underfoot, a welcome change from the rocky sodden forest floor he'd been trekking over. He could see the fire clearly now, and about two dozen men scattered around it. Perhaps they were quietly talking, planning their next move against the Avatar.

Sokka abruptly became super aware of the fact that in seeking help for Aang and his sister, he was about to hand the Avatar over to Prince Zuko. He would seal the fate of the whole world in a few short seconds.

The universe's grand scheme slammed down on him like a load of Appa's dung. What was he doing? He couldn't turn Aang over to these maniacs!

But Aang was out cold too. If he died, what would be the difference?

The difference would be that Katara would be dead too.

There was no turning back. He steeled his will, putting on the bravest, least threatening face he could. He prayed with each heavy step he took towards the camp.

But when he could see the details of the landing site, he stopped.

The smell of warm and sour alcohol said they were drunk, but the prone, unnatural positions of all the men told Sokka they were out cold. All of them.

Just like Katara and Aang.

Sokka's heart sank as he cautiously approached the bodies. He noted some of them were half out of their armour, as though it had been casually removed in the heat of the… party? Sokka frowned. Fire Nation troops aren't supposed to have fun, he thought.

He waved his hands in front of their faces. He poked them with his club. He called out and made noise and slapped their rosy cheeks. They were all alive, but unconscious.

He moved from man to man, trying to wake one up. Then, as Sokka poked an old sailing hand, he snorted and smacked his lips.

Life! Sokka grabbed the man and shook him. "Hey! Hey! I need your help!"

A hot cloud of mead-breath wafted into Sokka's nostrils. He gagged and dropped the drunk, who promptly passed out on the sand.

Great. Everyone was either near dead, or dead drunk.

Sokka stomped around loudly, not caring who discovered him. He looked around for anything that would help him – food, medicine, supplies, ropes, anything – but came up empty handed. The most he found were empty tins and jars, the decimated carcass of a smoked pork belly, shelled out papaya skins and melon rinds, and lots of empty bottles of mead. _They must have been having one heck of a party_, he thought. _I wonder what they were celebrating?_

It was then that Sokka noticed the Fire Nation ship anchored in the high-tide shallows nearby, the moonlight glinting off its steel hull, the horn prow ramp lowered. The ship looked so small and docile up close, like an oversized child's plaything. Whenever the trio had spotted it tailing them, it seemed more menacing somehow, as though it were a completely different beast when it was not mad on their trail.What a perfect opportunity, he thought. The perfect chance for looting, for exploration, for sabotage…

His line of thought was broken by yet another realization. He looked around at the faces of the comatose men and did not find the one he was looking for.

Zuko.

The prince was nowhere to be found. Could he be on the ship? Sokka highly doubted it. Katara had said she had seen Zuko, just before fainting. So he must be on the island somewhere.

And he had left Aang and Katara unprotected.

Sokka sprinted into the woods back to the campsite, cursing himself all the way.

* * *

_No._

_No!_

_Dead? Dead? DEAD? DEADDEADEADDEADDEADDEADDEADDEADDEAD…_

* * *

Katara sang to herself in her perfect world, a garden full of ever-blossoming flowers, a house made of ice and snow, and a perfectly warm and sunny day. The penguins happily nuzzled her as they slid down the icy slope, kicking up handfuls of plump, ripe berries in their wake. She absently ate one that landed in her lap. 

She felt the heat of the sun warm her shoulders and closed her eyes to drink in its rays. She felt her mother and father nearby, and Sokka and Aang too. She didn't have to worry about them. She didn't have to worry about anything. Never had she felt so wonderful. So at peace.

And suddenly the warmth was gone and she was somewhere altogether different. A featureless plain of grey shrouded in dense grey fog surrounded her. Wispy figures floated about, but she didn't feel afraid of them: she just wanted to go back to her happy place.

And then she spotted Aang! Surely the Avatar could tell her how to go back home?

The boy monk was ranting something when she heard her name:

"Katara! She was going to wash and get drinking water before I fell asleep! What if she…?"

"What if I what, Aang?" Katara floated up next to him, smiling.

Aang stared at her, eyes wide. Was something wrong? What had she said?

_Katara…_

The water girl whirled at the sound of her name. And just as suddenly, the sun returned and she was happily back home, with her penguins and garden and ice house.

But someone else was here too, now.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. His beautiful face, his perfectly formed ivory mid-section, his gorgeous gold eyes. He smiled and came forward.

"I've been looking for you," Kimji said simply. He offered her a handful of berries. She swatted them out of his hand.

"Don't eat them!" She cried out. Then she popped another into her mouth.

But the young, bare-chested man standing before her didn't flinch. He kept smiling at her, waiting, his ponytail fluttering in the gentle breeze. A cool blue flame wavered about him, hovering millimeters off his bare skin. How had she missed that before? It was so pretty.

The Water Tribe girl felt herself gravitating towards the Fire Nation boy, moving as though she was standing on an icy downhill slope, unable to stop herself from sliding into his arms.

She should stop herself. She had to! He was hot, he would burn her, he would hurt her! But now they were standing chest to chest, the thin fabric of her worn robe barely a barrier between them.

The cool blue flames enveloped her, licking her skin without burning her. She marveled at them before turning to Kimji once more.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, staring into those captivating pools of glistening amber, like liquid sunshine flecked with gold. His muscular arms snaked around her waist. He nuzzled her gently.

_Katara… _he whispered in her hair, his hot breath tickling her ear.

"Zuko…" she moaned softly. Her lips brushed his, and as she melted in his sinuous embrace, all she could taste was the hot salt of his skin.

* * *

_I am the water._

_I am life and death._

_Beg for mercy._

* * *

Katara's soft moan made Zuko sit up. Where was he? What had happened? He stared around him, gathering his scattered wits and brushing dirt from his face. 

A fire. The night. He was cold, and had no real clothes on. He must have fallen asleep.

He looked to his right. The Avatar.

He looked to his left. Katara.

It all came rushing back to him. What time was it? How long had he been asleep? And where was that damn water boy?

He tried to stand, but the throbbing in his head threatened to topple him directly into the campfire. And Fire Nation or no, that would hurt. He sat back down on the dirt dazedly.

Katara moaned again, tossing gently on the sleeping bag. Zuko recoiled, afraid the girl was waking up, but she didn't. He watched, enthralled, as her body arched, her back and hips lifting off the ground, her eyelids fluttering momentarily. Her pinched knees pressed together tightly. And then she fell back down and was still. The smallest of smiles crept into her lips.

The prowling tiger thing in his chest growled and purred and pawed madly at his soul, begging to be let out. Zuko tore his gaze away from Katara's exposed body. _Indecent_, he scolded himself, stifling his arousal. He shouldn't be ogling girls as they slept. He was no voyeur. He was a prince, for Agni's sake! Start acting like one!

But his eyes dodged back and he found himself staring at her once more. His pulse seemed to quicken, his breath becoming ragged. And then his brain, which had mostly been silent since Ho'Wan, began a battle of epic teenage proportions... with itself.

_She should be covered up. It's chilly._

_You're chilly. Get into the sleeping bag with her, that way you'll both be nice and toasty._

_It's a mild night. Maybe you should make her more comfortable and loosen those robes, hmm?_

_Don't touch her, pervert._

_But she needs a hug._

_She needs more than a hug._

You _need a hug._

_Shut up! She'll love you more if you woo her._

_Who says I need love? _

_She can't love an ugly, scarred, banished disgrace like you, look at her! She's beautiful!_

_She's a peasant. A water peasant._

_But I'm in love with her._

_No you're not. Your hormones don't count as you._

_You're a teenage boy. It's perfectly natural to have feeling for a pretty girl._

_Especially that pretty girl._

_So touch her!_

_Don't you dare touch her!_

_She liked you when you were Kimji._

_Well, I'm not Kimji, am I?_

_Yes you are. And you know it._

It was Ho'Wan all over again. He had no control over himself around this girl. Zuko found himself looming over her sleeping form, his hand hovering inches from her delicate fingertips. He wanted badly for her to wake up, to slap him and shake him from this nightmare-dream of agonizing desire.

_T__o wake up and see his face and smile and pull him down for a passionate kiss…_

For a split second, the Fire Prince was deathly afraid of himself. For the past two years, he had trained for hours every day with his uncle, honing deadly fighting skills and Firebending powers. He knew how to throw a punch and how to pull one. He could send a coil of fire along a piece of rope and burn it into four pieces without distintegrating the whole thing. He controlled his emotions and distilled them into two he could deal with: anger and hatred. He had always thought he had perfect control.

But in this moment, stooping over this girl, he wasn't sure what he was going to do, and he didn't want to know what he was capable of in this moment of _weakness. _He felt ashamed as he found himself gently running a fingertip along the soft skin on the inside of the girl's delicate wrist.

_He was powerlessness against a sleeping girl._

_Hormones!_ He screamed at himself, but his body would not listen_  
_

He traced his finger up her arm, across her shoulder, and around her collarbone. He wanted badly to see the skin there, to feel it against his, to press his lips against the soft, caramel-coloured angles of her budding womanhood. And every muscle in his body screamed at him as he resisted, his subconscious holding him back. It might have been the dizziness, but his body and mind betrayed him as a hundred thousand suppressed thoughts and emotions came seeping out, like boiling groundwater escaping through hot geyser vents.

Prince or peasant, Water Tribe or Fire Nation, all he knew at that moment was that Katara was a beautiful girl, and he WANTED her.

Zuko didn't know what he was capable of.

Fortunately for all parties, he would never find out.

* * *

Sokka could see the clearing ahead as he sprinted over the lumpy terrain. The fire still burned brightly. He could see Aang lying there, and Katara on her sleeping bag… 

And Zuko poised hungrily over her.

Sokka didn't know what happened next. All he saw was the hot red fire and his sister being preyed over by that… that...

The club was in his hands instantly. He lunged at Prince Zuko with an enraged howl.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!"

* * *

**Please review! I already know where this is going, but my brain's been a little jumbled lately, so I may not have gone over the details right and proper! P.S. Hope I'm making up for the lack of Zutaraness in Ho'Wan. 'Cuz I know all you dirty birds out there just want to see Zuko and Katara make out...**


	8. Ch 8: Role Reversal

**Whoa! I saw a huge jump in traffic after RedNovember pimped me! Thanks RedN! And for all y'all who haven't read it, go read... well, just about anything RedN writes! I'm partial to These Circumstances myself, even if island/capture stories are overdone. But RedN's got real flare, and she's one of the best ATLA fanfic writers out there.**

**A/N: I got a few comments asking me why Zuko was suddenly all horny. I admit, I threw him OOC for this crucial moment, (hintcoughsequelcoughhint). Here's how I see it, in mathematical terms: **

f(sex) **_equals _**cursed island Zuko(banished, troubled prince who just needs some lovin' + teenage hormones) **_over _**Katara(beautiful + vulnerable + nubile) **_equals _**Zuko/Katara **_equals_ **Zutara!

**Admit it, y'all enjoyed it, even if it was kinda creeptacular. (Face it, Zuko's kinda creepy, regardless of how hot he is.) 8 )  
**

**And now, on with the "I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender" show! **

* * *

_Don't you see? I did it for you! For us!_

* * *

Zuko looked up in time to catch the heavy head of the club on his crossed wrists. The force of the blow sent him scrambling backwards on his hands as the water boy swung at him again, missing his face by inches. 

On the third fierce swing, Zuko caught the club on the palms of his sandal-shod feet and used the boy's momentum to propel his assailant backwards while giving himself enough thrust to flip over and land in an offensive crouch.

He concentrated his energy on forming a fireball, but nothing came.

_Oh crap, that's right..._ Zuko barely dodged another one of the water boy's furious blows. He was tiring quickly, and the semblance of balance he had was all illusion. He clung to the ground, supporting himself with one arm in a tripod stance, the spinning ground threatening to upend him.

Zuko started hearing through the rush of blood in his ears what the boy was shouting.

"—you disgusting pig! I'll kill you! If you touched her—"

"Hey!" He found himself yelling back indignantly, staggering as he nearly caught the club on his chin. "Wait—!"

One of Sokka's blows finally landed, connecting with Zuko's shoulder. He fell forward, the shock in his arm numbing his fingers.

"STOP!" He yelled, rolling to one side. The club smashed into the ground where Zuko had lain half a second ago.

"I didn't touch her!" He shouted again. _Well, not in the way he imagines,_ Zuko thought, dodging another blow.

But Sokka was raging, spittle flying from his lips as he continued his assault. The Fire Prince could see there was no reasoning with Katara's elder brother. He had gone berserk.

Zuko's brain chimed in (at the most inappropriate time, as usual): _And you wanted to see the look on his face if you were caught doing something with his sister. Weeeeelllll, have a good look, moron._

Dizzy and exhausted, his vision clouded with black spots, Zuko fell to his knees beside the sleeping Avatar, watching blearily, helplessly, as the fatal blow came.

The boy ran at him, club raised to knock his head clean off—

And then something landed on Zuko's head, and it was not the club. He felt leathery pads touching his face, clinging to his shaved skull. Soft fur tickled his temples and a prehensile tail twined around his neck protectively.

The water boy jerked his club away just in time.

"Momo!" He screamed. "Get out of the way or I swear I'll knock your head off too!"

Momo? Zuko couldn't believe it. The big-eared monkey-thing had just saved his life.

The prince took this momentary lapse in the boy's murderous fit to strike.

He slid forward and kicked the water boy's feet out from under him. Momo jumped back into the trees. Sokka landed hard on his backside as Zuko kicked the club out of his hand, but the water warrior reacted faster than the prince thought possible. The boy caught Zuko's ankle and yanked him down from his already unstable foothold. The prince landed painfully on his tailbone while the water boy scrambled to get the club.

Sokka was on his feet before Zuko. He pointed the club at the kneeling, swooning prince, glaring, panting.

An impasse. Zuko sat still, seeing the boy in front of him become double, triple, and back to single.

The prince hissed dizzily, venom dripping from the air escaping between his teeth.

"I… I yield," he muttered, putting both his arms up in surrender, grinding his teeth unpleasantly.

In any other circumstance, he would never have bowed down to this peasant. If he weren't so nauseous, naked, unarmed, and unable to bend, he'd have beaten the boy in two seconds, and without Firebending to boot. But now was not the time for martyrdom. As one Uncle Iroh's lesser-used proverbs said, "A dead lion has no pride."

Sokka kept his club raised defensively, hesitantly. The wrath drained from his face, leave a tanned visage reeking of youthful angst and naiveté. His jaw hung slackly open in bafflement.

"Hold on a sec, _you _yield? I'm confused. Why haven't you roasted me on the spot?"

Zuko snarled. "Trust me, peasant, I would have as soon as you attacked, except that… I can't." He looked away, mortified by this admission. "Something has… taken away my Firebending abilities. I suspect whatever it is, it's the same thing that's affecting your sister and the Avatar as well."

_J__ust keep talking. Keep the boy's mind occupied._ He had him for now, but Zuko's men would eventually notice the prince's absence and send a search party. He would simply have to bide his time until then, lull the water boy into a false sense of security until he could be rescued.

How embarrassing. Iroh would never let him live this one down.

* * *

Sokka lowered his weapon, but did not take his eye off Prince Zuko. Just because he couldn't throw fire around didn't mean he wasn't a threat. 

The water boy contemplated the situation. Zuko had no reason to lie – for one, he was sitting there holding his head. Second, the Avatar was still lying there, unconscious. He could have picked him up and dragged him back to the Fire Nation without a fuss. The same went for Katara. She could just as easily have become his prisoner.

"Hey!" Sokka flared, remembering why he attacked the Fire Prince in the first place. "What did you think you were doing with my sister?"

Zuko returned indignantly: "Do? Nothing! As if I'd go for a... a skinny water wench like her!" He spluttered, hoping he sounded convincing. He was in no condition to get into another tussle with the over-protective brother.

Sokka seemed even more ticked off by Zuko's appraisal of his sister. "She's not skinny! She can eat more than me some days!"

"And it shows, stickboy," Zuko muttered under his breath, crossing his arms.

Sokka glowered. "I know what I saw. You just better not get any funny ideas. Katara's waaaaaay too good for you."

_I know_, Zuko thought, returning Sokka's warning look. A tense silence fell over the two boys as though a long, unspoken conversation were taking place.

"So..." Sokka broke the moment. "I guess you're… uh… like, my prisoner?"

Zuko could barely repress a snort. He looked away.

Sokka sneered. "Well, it's not like I have to worry about your men or anything. I was just in their camp on the beach. I think you and I have similar problems, your majesty. All our friends are out cold."

Zuko started. "My crew…?"

"Well, not all of them. Some of them are just plain drunk." Sokka waved dismissively.

Zuko furrowed his brow, trying to look angry more than worried. He refrained from asking about his Uncle.

* * *

_I am the water._

_I am life and death._

_Don't bother begging for mercy. I will dispense none._

_

* * *

_

"So all I have to do is free the souls from the living plane?" Aang asked, scratching his scalp.

"It's a little more complicated than that, Avatar," Fonquay said. "The curse is what binds us to the In-Between, but I don't know how to break it. Our souls are actually trapped in the mortal realm, bound to a vessel of some kind, but breaking it will only destroy the soul, not free it. You see, those of us that passed on the island... our bodies were, um, reclaimed by the land. They just rotted there, and the cursed water took us into its thrall.

"The water and curse are one, and I know they're the key, but I don't know any more than that. But you, you're the Avatar! We know you'll find our souls and break the curse and release us from this place." Fonquay gazed at him with grey, hope-filled eyes.

Somewhat lacking in knowledge or options, Aang was forced to accept this simple statement. He still didn't understand the In-Between, or the curse. But he was the Avatar. He was here to help. That was his job.

"So, what now? Am I just supposed to walk back to my body?" Aang asked.

Fonquay laughed. "Ha! Don't be ridiculous! All you have to do is WAKE UP!"

* * *

"WAKE UP, AANG!" Aang found himself sitting upright. Sokka was shaking him hard by the shoulders. 

"Mrrr... mluh?" He blinked sleep out of his eyes and absently wiped drool from the corner of his mouth. Had it all been a dream? It was so real...

Aang blearily stared into Sokka's haggard face, a look that was both worried and relieved staring back. "Man, when I heard you talking in your sleep, I thought you were just having a nightmare or something, but I tried to wake you up anyhow..."

"Wuzzit Sokka... man, I had this crazy dream..." and then he realized someone he couldn't quite recognize was sitting hunched over on the dirt by the fire, watching him. He was bare-chested, wearing nothing but a pair of loose black pants and sandals.

The figure quickly snapped into focus in the Avatar's mind. Though he had his back to the fire and his face was hidden in shadow, Aang could feel the hungry malevolence radiating off the youth.

"Zuko!" He nearly shouted. He sprang to his feet, willing the air to billow him up, but he fell heavily backwards onto his rump.

The gust that he normally used to bounce up was gone. He let out a forced huff that would have sent him sailing ten feet into the sky, but nothing happened. He shakily got to his feet the non-Airbender way, baffled.

"It's okay Aang," Sokka said. "Something's taken his Firebending powers away. Looks like whatever it is is affecting you too. And…" Sokka glanced to the side, the crease in his brow deepening as he looked over at...

The "dream" rushed back to him.

"Katara!" Aang nearly bowled Sokka over as he leapt to the Waterbender's side. She lay still, her breath shallow, her skin a touch pale. No amount of prodding or pinching or shouting woke her. She was a perfect sleeping beauty.

"Zuko's men are in the same state. Mostly." Sokka added that last word as an afterthought. He pointed at the prince. "He's not exactly my prisoner, but he's in no condition to fight either. I think he has a cold, or something."

"Sokka, listen really carefully. I had a spirit encounter..." And he told the water boy about his short adventure in the In-Between in detail, about Fonquay and freeing the trapped souls. As he told the story about the Water and Fire bender lovers, the look on the water boy's face went from incredulous, to shocked, to sad, to bewildered.

Zuko listened passively. He snuck an occasional glance at the sleeping Katara.

"So I've got to find out where the souls are going and free them somehow," Aang said, his voice hoarse from talking. "I don't know how much time we have, but Fonquay said if I don't do it soon, Katara will get stuck in the In-Between."

Sokka glanced at Katara worriedly. They were always getting into some kind of trouble: Fire Nation, freaky animals rides, prisoner break-outs, psychotic jerk-wad mercenary types... how could he possibly help them? What good was he to them? He resisted the urge to wallow in self-pity and repeated his mantra for the evening: I won't let anything happen to Katara.

He mulled over the supernatural phenomenon, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... if I were a cursed, tortured, trapped soul, where would I be?" His gaze moved about until it rested flatly on the banished, glowering prince.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Zuko growled.

Sokka silently walked to the prince and stooped beside him, picking up the shiny object that had caught his eye.

"What's this?" He held up the faintly glowing crystal between his thumb and forefinger, inspecting it in the firelight.

Zuko took a moment before mentally smacking himself. "Of course!" He cursed. "That's where it all began..."

The Avatar and the water boy looked at him expectantly. "What?"

Zuko finally had a card to play - the first one he'd had all day. "Nothing." He said simply, a nasty smile crawling into his lips. "Nothing at all."

"Zuko, what do you know?" Sokka approached him menacingly, fists clenched. The prince gazed evenly back at him.

"Maybe I know something, maybe I don't." He said blandly. "It just depends on how you decide to treat me."

"Treat you! How about I start by _not_ bashing your skull in, and you spill!" He brandished his club.

Aang bodily stopped him from doing anything rash, and spoke to smug-looking Firebender, his voice quiet and sober.

"Zuko," he faced the prince. "Your men are in serious danger. Katara's in danger. And by the way you look right now, I'd say that you're about to step into a world of danger. If the water's as dangerous as Fonquay says it is, and you happened to drink any…" The young Avatar shrugged. "Help us."

Zuko stared at the 13-year-old boy. Damn him, he was right. He had not eaten any cursed fruit, or drunk any cursed water, but he had swum and bathed in it, and had probably taken enough in to eventually silence him for good. He could already feel himself slipping away into a dangerously heavy sleep that he knew he might never rouse from.

And Katara. Had he just put her in danger so he could play the power game? Not that he should care. His pride deflated. Never had he felt so weak. He'd always had the upper hand, but without his Firebending, his strength, or his men, against this little boy and his meddling friends, he was just… he was only...

Zuko looked away, hiding the angry tears stinging his eyes with a malicious look. How could the Avatar just stand there being so fair with the young man who, even now, was bent on capturing and enslaving him?

And his men... the loyal soldiers and sailors who had followed him around the world on what had begun as a hopeless voyage and had become a crazed and frantic search. He couldn't let them fade out of this life, dying honourless deaths.

And Uncle Iroh. The boy had not mentioned him, but Zuko could picture the kindly old General lying face down on the beach in the sand, the scavengers circling in to pick at his flesh...

"The waterfall," Zuko admitted lowly. "There's a cave behind the waterfall where I was bathing. There's a statue of a Water Tribe woman in the water at its mouth. The cave is filled with those." He indicated the crystal in Sokka's cupped palm.

Aang nodded and started making plans with Sokka to search out the cave while Zuko cradled his throbbing head. He shivered and inched closer to the dwindling fire.

He felt a rough blanket thrown over his shoulders.

"Put that on, you'll freeze." Sokka grumbled turning away. Zuko unbundled the blanket that turned out to be an ugly grey wool tunic. He was about to chuck it back at the water boy with some rude comment about peasant clothing, but a strong cool wind made him pull it over his head quickly.

He cringed at the dank smell of someone else's sweat and wet animal fur. It was itchy, a little stiff from lack of washing, and a little too small for Zuko, who was taller and more muscular than Sokka. But it was warm and shielded him from the wind. _Why did he do that?_ Zuko wondered. _He could have left me to sit here and freeze to death._

In truth, Sokka had only given the prince his little-worn sweater because a) he didn't want to have to look at his nipples anymore, and b) he didn't want Katara waking up to said nipples. But the Water Tribe warrior wasn't about to say the word 'nipple' to the Fire Prince, much less admit he had been looking at the prince's nipples. Even Sokka blushed at the word 'nipple'. Nipple nipple nipple...

"But we can't just drag her all the way there Sokka," The Avatar said. "I don't know what we're going to have to _do _there."

"Well we can't just leave her here," Sokka argued, ignoring the fact that he had just done the same himself hours earlier. Of course, he had learned from that mistake when he discovered Zuko stooping over her, ready to do god-knew-what.

"We have to. And Zuko will have to stay here too." Aang said firmly.

"W-What?" Sokka stammered. "I'm not leaving that pervert here alone with my sister!"

Zuko smirked. _Another chance to be alone with Katara..._

He shook himself. _Get a grip, idiot, you're doing it again! The Avatar's in arm's reach and all you're thinking about is that water wench. Don't you dare make this another fiasco like Ho'Wan, or Uncle Iroh's going to smack you really hard in the back of the head. Really, really hard._

Zuko sat quietly, trying to look as harmless as he could to the two boys.

The Avatar sighed. "Okay then. If you don't trust him, we'll tie him up."

"What?" Zuko cried indignantly. "What makes you think I can't be trusted?"

The boys glanced at each other, simultaneously rolling their eyes. An evil grin tugged at Sokka's lips as he uncoiled a rough-looking hemp rope.

Together, they bound his hands behind his back and tied his ankles together. Zuko protested loudly, made a number of bodily threats, and tried to convince the boys that the sleeping girl had nothing to fear from him, but at the last attempts, Sokka laughed bitterly. "I don't think so." He cinched the knot around his wrists tighter. "Just be glad we don't gag you."

"Well, if anything attacks her and I have no way to defend her, you'll be sorry!" He called at them helplessly as they ran into the woods.

* * *

**Whew! That was a long one!** **Stick around for the next chapter, and please review! Call 1-HOWS-MY-ZUKO?**

**Question: does the word "nipple" warrant a change in the rating to M? You tell me! **


	9. Ch 9: The Horror

**A/N: Apparently, the word 'nipple' doesn't warrant an M rating. Still, I'm going to warn everyone about some nasty violence in the next couple of chapters, but keep the T rating. **

**Then again, if Zuko's nipples don't make you ill, neither will this. (nipple)  
**

**I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.**

* * *

Using Sokka's torch, the two boys quickly found the path Katara had taken to the waterfall. When they emerged into the clearing, the scene before them made them come to a full stop. 

"Whoa. Freaky." Sokka managed.

The silvery curtain of water gushed at its usual pace, but an eerie white light from within made the whole cascade glow. The pool was black and dark and menacing, reflecting the cave light on its inky surface.

"So, what now?" Sokka asked.

"We gotta get into that cave. We'll have to jump in."

Sokka knelt by the pool and dipped his hand into the water. "Geez, it's freezing! There's no way I'm swimming in that!"

But Aang had already stripped down to his underwear. "Sokka, stay here. If anything happens to me, you'll need to get help somehow. Take Zuko's ship. Bring back help."

"But Aang—!"

The Avatar took a running jump and dove into the centre of the pool.

* * *

Aang hardly felt the icy cold tear into his flesh as he lunged into the black pool. His mind was fixed on one thing alone. 

_Katara…_

She was in danger. She was on the verge of a fate worse than death. He had no idea what he was doing, where he was going, but it was like Fonquay said: he was the Avatar. He would think of something. After all, if he couldn't save one life, how could he expect to save the world?

If he didn't save Katara's life, the world wouldn't be worth saving.

Aang dove deeper and deeper, the freezing water stabbing his eyes. The only light he had to go by was the eerie white glow coming from behind the waterfall. He swam toward it, until suddenly, in the darkness, loomed a face—

Aang stopped before the armless statue of the water woman. The figure was carved of smooth rock, like some kind of milky quartz crystal. Her empty eyes stared at him pleadingly, almost hopefully in the dark.

The young Avatar hovered before it a moment, wondering how this statue had gotten there in the first place. Who had carved it? And what was it doing at the bottom of a waterfall?

The woman stared at him beseechingly. He reached out, compelled to touch it—

* * *

_Ping._

_

* * *

_

The world swirled around him, dissolving in the dark water. If it were not for the overwhelming sense of calm, Aang would definitely be panicking and trying to swim away as fast as he could, but as it was, he was no longer in the water. Not in his mind, at least.

Aang stood on a grassy plateau high up on a mountain. A serene lake reflected the silvery overcast sky. A tiny cottage made of logs and sod sat discreetly in one corner of the field, with a fire pit off to one side. A neatly-kept garden patch sown with an odd assortment of vegetables and fruit surrounded the homey complex.

The young Avatar moved instinctively toward the house. Somehow he knew there would be something to see there. Just as he approached the door, it swung open, the solid wood harmlessly passing through his spectral body.

_Oooookay. Again, not in the Spirit Realm_, Aang noted with interest. Just how many realms and other dimensions did he have access to?

Two people emerged from the earthy homestead. Though they were laughing, Aang could hear nothing, except for a vague gurgling sound hollowly sloshing in his ears. _Glug glug._

One of the cabin's inhabitants was a handsome young man wearing dark red robes. His thick raven hair was tied up in the traditional Fire Nation top knot. His startling green eyes turned smilingly upon the beautiful young woman following him out.

Aang instantly recognized her as the quartz statue in the pool. Her straight brown hair cascaded down her back, fluttering in the wind. She carried a small black pot, which she hung on the fire pit tripod.

The man gathered some logs and gestured at the pile of wood in the pit, a blast of flame erupting from his hand. The logs caught and he beamed at the woman, who smiled warmly back.

The woman moved her arms in a smooth flowing movement and bent a large sluice of water out of the lake and into the pot. They placed assorted vegetables into the boiling water, murmuring indistinguishable things to each other. But from the dreamy look in both their eyes as they gazed at one another, Aang knew that these two were the Firebender and Waterbender lovers from Fonquay's story.

Time seemed to fold because the next thing he knew, it was night and the two were resting by the fire, their stew eaten, the fire burned down to cinders. The woman snuggled happily in the man's embrace, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

Someone came stumbling up the hill. Aang couldn't see immediately who it was in the dream dark, but by the way the couple jumped to their feet, he wasn't a welcome visitor.

The Firebender pushed the young woman behind him and was angrily shouting things at the intruder, but Aang could hear nothing. The shadow hovered just outside the firelight's radius for a moment, then threw something glittery to the ground.

It was a handful of crystals, just like the one Zuko had found, but these were not glowing. The trio seemed to exchange a few more words and then the shadowy figure scuttled back down the hill. The man gathered the crystals up off the ground and hurled them into the lake, embracing his trembling lover tenderly as he wiped away her tears and all traces of the intruder.

Another fold in time, and Aang was startled to find himself standing before a whole troop of Fire Nation soldiers. Their armour was made mostly of leather and crudely-wrought iron, unlike the polished steel plates the Fire Nation currently wore, but they were equally as impressive, if not more menacing in a primitive sort of way.

The pale sun shone weakly through the overhead cloud cover, lighting the scene in a sickly glow. Two soldiers held the woman's arms behind her back. She was struggling and crying. The Firebender battled with three men who eventually wrestled him to his knees. They each took an arm and grabbed him by his hair, yanking his head back to expose his neck. He shouted something at the approaching man, a tall, steely-eyed general.

Aang saw the red-hot blade the general carried as he approached. He drew his arm back—

Aang tried to shut his eyes, but it was as if he no longer had eyelids. He watched in horror as the blade came down and a blood was pouring from the hole in the man's heart. The soldiers let the corpse fall to the ground. The next thing he knew, the woman had broken from her captors' grip and was on her hands and knees, sobbing and screaming wordlessly to the sky at her lover's side. The soldiers roughly hoisted her up onto her feet when another man approached her. He was tall and gangly with a mass of tangled salt and pepper hair, and wore a tattered knee-length tunic, leggings, and high boots.

It took a minute for Aang to match this character to the ghostly form of Lord Fonquay.

What was he doing here? He said he hadn't encountered the island until years later.

No wait, all he had said was that he'd been in the In-Between for two hundred or so years. Confused, Aang watched the scene unfold.

Fonquay went up to the woman and tenderly wiped the tears from her face, saying something. She shrank from his touch, and spat at him angrily. He gripped her chin tightly, his eyes bright with anger and hunger as he stared into her tear-streaked face. Aang wished desperately he could hear what they were saying. He tried to read their lips, but to no avail.

Turning to the steely-eyed Fire Nation general who was non-chalantly wiping the blood off his sword, he said something and they went back and forth, the nasty smile on the general's face growing wider while Fonquay grew more and more pale. The General then grabbed Fonquay by the collar, slugging him hard in the gut, and threw him hard onto the ground. The soldiers around them laughed.

Fonquay curled up in fetal position on the ground, looking beaten and defeated. Aang looked at this spidery mass of a man and realized that he was the shadowy intruder slinking around the lovers' home who had offered the crystals in return for… what? Aang was at a loss.

The lean man's shoulders shook, his chest racked with sobs. He seemed to calm down for a moment. Then he suddenly threw back his head and began laughing. His eyes glinted maniacally, his hair looking wilder than ever. And he burst up, howling, his arms raised high.

The ground shook and shot up in a series of earthen columns, catapulting two-thirds of the soldiers into the lake. With a swoop of his arm, half of the remaining contingent was swept into the water, thrown far from the shore.

Meanwhile, the woman had managed to struggle free once more, and she staggered to her fallen lover's body. She collapsed atop him, sobbing, her hands soaking in his blood.

Fonquay continued fighting off the remaining troops, hurling rocks and clods of dirt, raising walls of the mountain's granite to shield himself from the responding onslaught of fire. The General who had callously run the young Firebender through advanced on him, dodging the man's crazed attacks and countering with deadly fireballs.

And before Aang could register it, the sword that had been used to kill the Firebender was now buried hilt-deep in Fonquay's stomach. The Avatar retched at the sight of the red blotch blossoming in the Earthbender's back where the sword had penetrated clean through his centre, the point of the blade tenting the back of his tunic.

He turned away from the gruesome scene to be met by yet another. The Waterbender woman was kissing her lover's corpse. She was drenched, her blue robes stained a dark maroon as the still-warm blood soaked her skin. As her lips worked passionately over his, more blood welled up from his mouth, but she took no notice, eagerly lapping it up.

Aang desperately wanted to stop watching, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. His stomach churned.

Seemingly sated by her dead lover's still passion, the Waterbender smiled and gently settled the body back on the ground as though he were only dozing, moving a stray hair from his sallow face. She rose, a look of pure serenity on her countenance, blood dripping from her smiling lips.

The General and the dying Fonquay looked on in horror and revulsion as she walked gracefully toward them. She seemed to be saying something, and turned to the dying Fonquay. His eyes were wide, his lips and face drained of all colour - he was going into shock from blood loss.

And then she looked at the Fire Nation general who had killed her lover, and pressed her palms together tightly, praying for him.

And when she quickly pulled them apart, Aang screamed. The general barely had a chance to cry out before his body exploded in a shower of blood and flesh.

She had bent the water in his body, tearing his flesh from his bone.

Aang couldn't vomit. His head spun, his vision blurred, but he had none of the bodily functions he wished would relieve him of this awful sickness building in every part of his body. Oh gods, why wouldn't it stop?

Worst of all, he had no choice but to keep on watching. The woman, now thoroughly soaked in blood, walked to the edge of the lake where some of the troops had witnessed their late commander's gruesome death. They scrambled towards the far shore trying to get away from the madwoman, but it was far too late for them.

With a simple twirling motion of her wrist and a flourish over the head, the lake was whipped into an instant waterspout. It grew and grew, its radius widening until the entire contents of the lake had risen into the air. Every fish, plant, and human body in the water was killed instantly, crushed to a pulp by the torrential super-bent water.

Aang had never seen such raw and uncontrolled Waterbending. Water was supposed to be healing, calm, and cool, but as he thought this, he realized the dual nature of water as both the life bringer and the destroyer. Such was the precarious balance of the elements that he, as Avatar, was charged to keep. He shuddered, incapable of imagining himself, the world's most powerful bender, even approaching anything close to this magnitude of bending. He silently hoped he never would.

And as quickly as it had begun, it stopped. The lake was now a muddy hole, an enormous, sprawling iceberg resting quietly in its centre, the newly formed ice steaming in the pale sun.

And Fonquay had seen it all. He sat there, still bleeding, dying, and watched as dozens of lives and bodies were utterly destroyed. The look in his eyes was a mix of depair, loss, anguish, and terror. He stared at the woman mutely.

Understanding dawned on Aang slowly. Though he was only 13 and had been a cloistered monk for most of his life, he knew what love was, and he had an inkling about passion. Though he was no poet, and would never be able to put his observations into words, this much he did understand: all of this was the result of tainted and misplaced love. The jealousy that had driven Fonquay to commit the murderous treachery and the grief-filled rage that had consumed the Waterbender stemmed from love. Love that should have been pure, like the once pristine lake water, but was now defiled, turned into some horrible shadow of love, polluted, dark, twisted...

Still sitting on his knees, Fonquay rose and shakily pulled the sword out of his chest. Dark red blood poured from the wound and ran from the corner of his mouth. He laughed weakly again and said something to the dazed woman, who was still standing at the edge of the horrific former lake.

She turned her head ever so slightly and said something. Two streams of tears drew parallel ivory lines down her crimson-stained cheeks. Her eyes glowed an earthly blue. She walked forward, and a rivulet of water snaked into her hand, gathering itself from the still damp ground. It became a lightning blue pike in her fist and she raised her arm and jammed it with all her might into Fonquay's open wound.

A bright blue-white light surged, blinding Aang, throwing him from the surreal massacre. Once again, he found himself staring into the armless quartz statue's beautiful, horrified face.

And when he tried to breathe in, Aang choked and took in a lungful of water.

* * *

**Hoo-hah! Are you surprised? Did I not warn you things would get complicated and nasty? There will probably be things that you don't understand, so make sure you ask! There's more to come! More follow-through! More fluff! Stay tuned!**  



	10. Ch 10: The Horrors

**I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.**

* * *

_Stupid Avatar. Stupid water boy. Stupid itchy sweater._

Zuko worked at his rope bindings, rubbing his wrists against a sharp rock. Of all the nerve! Tying him up because they didn't trust him to keep his hands off a lowly peasant girl.

A very pretty and vulnerable lowly peasant girl.

_Shut up, shut up, shut up!_ He silently screamed at himself. How could he let this happen... AGAIN? Tied up and in mortal peril for the second time in two weeks! Why him?

His wrists were tired and raw, and his head throbbed. Eventually he gave up. Where would he go even if he did get the ropes off? Back to his passed out crew members? He'd be lucky if he could even find the camp in the dark and in his condition.

Zuko scooted closer to the fire, feeling the warmth on his back through the sweater. As much as he hated to admit it, he was being treated much more fairly than he would have treated the trio of travelers had their roles been reversed.

Of course, he wouldn't treat Katara the same way he'd treat the two boys. She wasn't a threat to him, after all. Well, not much of one, anyhow. He could deal with her easily. The Avatar would have to be chained and probably drugged for the voyage back to the Fire Nation. The boy, Sokka, was dead weight and another mouth to feed. He could be tossed overboard. But Katara—

Zuko's mind played out a hundred and one scenarios as he sat by the fire. Zuko holding hands with the girl on the deck of the ship, Zuko buying her pretty trinkets to tickle her fancy, Zuko practicing his Firebending while the the girl watched in awe and fascination, Zuko running his fingers through her long brown hair, Zuko kissing those perfect lips, Zuko cradling her in the warmth of his bed—

Zuko kicked himself mentally. _What is wrong with me?_ He screamed silently again in frustration. His brain almost chimed in helpfully with a long list of his deficiencies and emotional problems, but it decided it was far, far too easy, and kept its own counsel.

He must have been sick. He was getting delusions of grandeur. Any minute now, he would start hallucinating and seeing things in the dark. It had to be the cursed water, he convinced himself. It was much easier blaming it all on this strange, accursed island and its restless spirits, rather than hormones or his own angst-ridden mind. He was a prince, after all, and royalty had to maintain a higher standard of behaviour. Of course, he was also an emotionally constipated teenager who'd been banished and exiled from his home by his father, with no mother and only a tea-loving shopaholic uncle to care for him. But hell, who didn't have their little quirks?

So he blamed the island. And that was all there was to it.

Prince Zuko drew his knees up as he stared into the darkness, feeling the fire on his back. A pair of bright green eyes stared back at him from the treetops.

"Momo..." Zuko almost said thank you to the little creature, but stopped himself. What a ridiculous thing for him to even consider doing. A Prince of the Fire Nation, paying respect to a big-eared monkey-thing that had haphazardly decided to land on his head? He was definitely starting to hallucinate.

The glowing eyes flashed and scuttled down the tree, disappearing into the bushes. Zuko saw them flash again, off to the right. Boy, that creature moved fast.

And then there were eyes on the left.

And another pair appeared on the right.

And another. And another.

Zuko groaned inwardly. Of course there would have to be things lurking in the dark while he was tied up. And they couldn't just have been figments of his imagination either. Nooooo, they had to be real.

_This day is really starting to..._ being a prince, Zuko didn't have the word, but his contemporaries would say, "_suck_."

He inched right up against the fire and held his bonds to the flame as he counted five… no, six hairy things scuttle out of the shadows, snuffling, snorting, and squealing as they sought their prey.

Zuko grimaced. _Ugh, what a bunch of ugly… whatever they are._

They were about the size of small dogs, with six long, hairy, spider legs ending in four-fingered hands that grasped the earth and grass. Their bodies were covered in masses of dark, wiry hairs. Their torsos were unusually heavy-set compared to their relatively thin legs, but they moved quickly on those strong, gripping limbs. Their heads were horned, and had a set of hairy mandibles. Their bright, round, lidless green eyes stared around anxiously, seeking out fresh, vulnerable meat.

Like Katara.

Zuko realized with dismay that he was not their intended meal at all. The scavenger spiders advanced toward the sleeping girl.

_Why won't these damn ropes burn?_ He became increasingly agitated by the little monsters' proximity to the helpless girl. He knew he couldn't just sit their and watch them tear her to pieces. He just... couldn't. So he jammed his hands into the fire and felt the flames lick his fingers. He pressed his wrists into the embers, trying to ignore the places where it was burning his flesh.

The creatures circled closer. Zuko yelled and kicked dust at them and they shrank back, but they would not be deterred from their easy meal.

"Katara!" He shouted as one of the creatures probed her with a leg. The water girl did not move. Satisfied that she was dead enough to eat, the ugly little monsters moved in.

Zuko felt the rope binding around his wrist slacken. He pulled his wrists apart, snapping what was left, and scrambled to undo the ropes around his ankles. But the scavengers were already on top of Katara, nipping at her clothing and tearing it in places.

There was no time. Zuko picked up a burning stick from the fire and waved it at the creatures, yelling to scare them away. Six pairs of bright green eyes turned on him.

The gleam in their eyes was unmistakable. It said: "Oh, dessert!"

Zuko heard more snuffling, snorting noises behind him. He turned apprehensively. Five more of the creatures emerged from the shadows.

_This is definitely not the best day I've ever had_, the prince concluded bitterly.

Zuko burned the ropes off his ankles with his now ineffectual-seeming flaming stick as the creatures circled around him. He looked around for a weapon: a sword, a pike, a club, a dagger… anything!

He cursed the Avatar and his friends for the thirty-eighth time that night. Why didn't this bunch travel with weapons? The Avatar had his staff, but it was more for gliding than fighting. Katara didn't look like the kind of girl who would carry hidden daggers on her person. The water boy, Sokka, was probably the only one who had any formal hand-to-hand combat, pathetic as it was, and the only one who carried anything mildly threatening. What a bunch of useless peace-loving peasants! No wonder the Fire Nation was winning the war!

Zuko snatched up a good sized branch and cautiously moved closer to the sleeping Katara. He kept a wary eye on the now hesitant creatures. They eyed him back. The spidery scavengers who had been nibbling on the girl's clothing backed away, hissing, their mandibles dripping with ooze.

Suddenly, the largest of the creatures sprang at the Fire Prince. Zuko batted it away with the stick, throwing it onto its back. He raised his arms and brought the makeshift club down, smashing it into the creature's abdomen.

The stick bounced harmlessly off the creature's thick hide with a loud, hollow thump.

Zuko almost sighed in exasperation at his dismal luck before the swarm of creatures lunged.

* * *

Sokka paced, staring at the waterfall. 

"Aang!" he called for the tenth time. The boy hadn't surfaced or called back in what seemed like forever.

_This is stupid,_ Sokka thought as he watched the water uncertainly, but knew he had to dive in if he was going to find the Avatar.

_I've dealt with cold before. I'm from the Southern Water Tribe! I know cold..._ and Sokka made a running cannonball into the pool, clothes on and all.

Icy. Frigid. Cold. Wintry. Freezing. There were a hundred ways to say it, but Sokka's mind screamed one thing: "YEAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHH!"

He was almost glad when the numbness took over and he began frog-swimming toward the dim white glow. He couldn't see much in front of him, but he knew from the rush that he had just passed under the waterfall.

A rippling of white in the water made Sokka stare hard through the slightly cloudy water. It was Aang, his pale form floating in the water, transfixed by whatever was in front of him. Sokka kicked hard and made his way to the young boy. He reached out and touched him, but the Avatar did not move. His eyes were wide and clouded over.

Sokka surfaced and took another deep breath. Panicking for his friend's state of being, he plunged back into the dark water.

He could see it now: the monk was in front of a statue of a woman, his hand just touching her cheek. He must be in contact with… something, he thought to himself. Too many weird things had happened with Aang for Sokka to ignore that the young boy really did have some extraordinary powers. He would not interfere in whatever ritual the young Avatar was engaged in. Even so, he must have been underwater for nearly five minutes. How was he breathing?

Unable to be helpful, Sokka surfaced and climbed out shivering, ready to received the young Avatar when he reawakened.

* * *

Panic. 

Icy, stabbing, pressing, drowning—

Blackness. Cold.

The blood everywhere, it rushed back into his eyes, into his mind—

He wanted to vomit, but water filled his mouth, his stomach, his lungs—

Darkness. Cold.

He only knew that his heart was slowing, his body was slackening, his soul loosening from its mortal grip…

From faraway came the whispers of a thousand lost souls.

And above them all was the icy voice of a single woman.

_Don't bother begging for mercy. I will dispense none. You wanted me forever... and so you shall have me... forever..._

And suddenly it was colder, but gravity was pressing Aang into the rough, sharp, hard, cold ground. Water flowed out of him like icy blood, out his mouth, out his nose, out his ears, out his lungs—

Aang gasped and coughed and heaved up a lungful of water. Sokka dragged him away from the shoreline to rest on even ground. The retching reflex and clear air finally allowed Aang to vomit up his share of the night's bender-poisonous dinner.

The dark red berries came up like a gush of blood. Sokka shrank away, in shock more than disgust. The young boy kept heaving, sobbing in between. He cried and cried as the last of his puke came up clear, and he collapsed onto his side away from the pile, shivering in fetal position, nearly naked.

Sokka patted him on the back soothingly. He wished he could offer the boy a blanket, a hanky, or something to rinse his mouth out with, but this water couldn't be trusted. He had no comfort to offer apart from his reassuring company and ridiculously manly sentiments like, "Let it out, man, don't hold it in."

During moment like these, Sokka sure felt useless.

* * *

Aang's mind reeled. What had he just seen? What had happened? He didn't want to see anymore, tried to squeeze his eyes shut, glad that he finally could, but the images wouldn't leave his brain. All that blood… 

And Fonquay. What was his part in all this? Why had he lied to him? What was he supposed to do now?

The young Avatar mewled, barely aware of Sokka's presence. He felt so alone. He wanted to be with the other Airbending monks again. He wanted to be playing Airball with the other kids. Why had he left the Air Temple? Why hadn't he stayed to protect them all when the Fire Nation attacked? Why wasn't there anyone left to guide him now? He was so alone in the world.

"Hey, are you okay?"

The voice came distantly to him. He wearily opened his eyes.

That same angelic face had looked into his once, the two blue eyes smiling down at him…

No. He was not alone.

"Aang…?"

The voice softly echoed in his ears.

"Katara…?"

"Aang, thank gods you're all right." The voice grew deeper and harsher. Sokka sighed in relief. Aang was shaken out of his déjà vu. He had thought for a moment that he had just awoken from the hundred-year-long slumber in the iceberg, the day the two siblings had found him.

Katara.

Aang staggered to his feet. "Sokka, something's wrong." He took a step and collapsed.

"Whoa, take it easy Aang, you just puked your whole stomach up," Sokka grimaced at the pool of red berry vomit.

"Sokka, listen, all that stuff I told you about that Fonquay guy and the Fire and Waterbender – it's not right. Something's not right about it."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw it. I saw it all happen—" Aang squeezed his eyes shut, willing the horror to take second place to the facts. "Fonquay told me the souls need to be freed, but he was there! He betrayed the lovers to their deaths! The Waterbender killed him for it—"

"Whoa, slow down a minute, I don't understand," Sokka tried to keep the boy from getting up, but Aang was determined.

"Fonquay was an Earthbender. I think he was jealous or something of the Firebender. I think he was in love with the Waterbender woman, and she rejected him. So he led the Fire soldiers to them and had the Firebender killed." Aang took a breath, seeing the searing hot blade run through the young man's body in his mind. "Fonquay had made some kind of bargain I think, to keep the woman, but he got double-crossed. And he went all crazy and killed a bunch of the soldiers."

"Aang, what—?"

"But the woman went even crazier. She killed them all, just like Fonquay said, but it was… I think she… I felt…"

"What is it Aang?"

Aang turned his haunted, pale face to him.

"I think she was an Avatar."

* * *

**So are things getting super weird now? Who is this Waterbender? And how will Zuko hold up against the spidery scavengers without weapons, Firebending, armour, men, health, help... Oooh tricky!**

** Did this chapter raise more questions that it answered? Probably. Stay tuned to find out more! **


	11. Ch 11: Crystal Clear

**I'd like to take this opportunity to thank a few more reviewers and pimps a few fics myself:**

**Worker72: thanks for the chapter-by-chapter reviews!**

**Rashaka: I love writing Sokka. My life, like his, is full of struggle and anguish, mostly self-inflicted, so that's probably why I can relate to the things he says. 8 )**

**wilderness-writer: everybody go read Dangerous Ground, it's WW's first fic and it's a superbly written reversed capture fic.**

**Thanks for keeping up with the story! I don't want to mess with your heads too much so you'll get the next couple of chapters in rapid fire succession because I don't want you to forget what's going on. So, on with the show!**

**I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender**.

* * *

"An Avatar?" Sokka gasped. "Aang, are you sure?" 

"No," Aang admitted. "I would know her if she were one, wouldn't I? I mean, I'd recognize her, or something. I am the Avatar reincarnated, right?" Aang staggered and leaned against the cold cave wall, his eyes unfocused. "She was so powerful..."

Sokka wondered what the young boy had seen, wishing he could share the visions that burdened Aang so heavily. At least that way he wouldn't feel so alone. Either of them.

"So what do we do?" Sokka asked quietly.

"Into the cave. Maybe we'll get some answers." Aang shuffled toward the light, with Sokka ready to catch the nearly-naked boy. He looked terrible, like a thin old man on the verge of disintegrating.

They walked down the short dirt corridor and squeezed through the same fissure in the rock Zuko had shimmied through earlier, staring around in awe when they emerged on the other side. Their eyes took little time to adjust to the brilliant-seeming light that filled the enormous cavern.

"Wow." Sokka managed to understate. If this place was hauntingly beautiful during the day, it was spectacularly gorgeous at night. The little crystals winked like stars in the dark granite all around them.

Sokka could hear the scuttle and flap of wings coming from the dark ceiling overhead. Bats or birds, Sokka thought. He just hoped it wasn't worse than that.

Probably nothing he couldn't handle, though.

* * *

The banished Fire Prince slammed a fist into the spider scavenger that had leapt for his head, knocking it to the ground. He swung about and caught another with his foot, throwing it into the bushes. 

Another crawled up to his foot and nipped him sharply on the ankle. Zuko gasped as the creature withdrew a short distance. Those meaty mandibles had ripped right through his silk pants and left a long gash on his foot. He prayed the creatures weren't poisonous, but by the way the cut burned, he knew he was in big trouble.

He growled. This day had gone from bad to worse, and now he was going to die. And Katara would die too, if he couldn't keep those things off her.

He dodged another creature, grabbing two of its hind legs in mid-air. He swung the heavy body over his shoulder and dashed it on the ground, snapping the legs in an awkward bend. The creature writhed on its back, hissing and twitching in agony.

He couldn't keep this up. There were just too many of them, and Zuko's vision began to blur again, dizziness threatening to topple him. The adrenaline would run out soon, and when that happened, he would pass out, never to awaken again.

There was no room for pride anymore. Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation could not win this battle. He had to retreat.

He glanced at Katara, his instincts shouting at him to leave her, to run into the forest and let her meaty morsel of a body distract the hungry creatures.

_Run you fool! You don't have any obligation to her!_ a cold, indifferent part of his brain told him. He ignored it.

_This is the honourable thing to do_, he told himself. In two steps, he was at Katara's side. He scooped up the surprisingly light girl in his arms and ran.

* * *

"Slow down Aang, you might fall down a hole in the ground if you don't watch where you're going." Though Sokka was in far better condition than the young, shivering Avatar, he could not match the boy's determination. 

"I don't understand, I just don't get it…" Aang kept whispering to himself. He seemed bewildered, shaken since his encounter with the Waterbender's statue. "Why would she do it? If she was an Avatar… why don't I know her?"

"Aang, maybe you're jumping to conclusions," Sokka tried. "You don't know for sure that she was an Avatar."

"You don't get it, Sokka. The power, the rage… I think I know it, but it was so intense…" a tormented look passed over his face.

Of course, Sokka knew the power and rage all too well. The Avatar spirit had overtaken Aang on several occasions, and the raw fury had only died down after the thirst for vengeance had been slaked… or Katara had calmed him down.

Sokka's thoughts turned to his sister and he worried about her safety with the Fire Nation Prince. Memories of their brief childhood flooded his mind. He wondered if this was it, if she would die and fall into the In-Between realm. Tears burned in his eyes and he wiped them away discreetly.

No. He wouldn't let that happen.

"Look," Aang pointed to the back of the cave as they rounded a corner. The small, glowing crystals seemed to grow denser here, as though something had thrown them against the wall and the rest had splattered across the cave on impact. They glowed brilliantly at the centre, so densely packed that there seemed to be no granite behind the shards.

The boys edged toward it, feeling an ominous presence hovering at their backs. Sokka kept glancing behind him, the hairs on his neck standing on end. Both of them were thoroughly soaked and freezing, of course, but the chill that passed through them sunk deep into their bones and left a dark, oppressive blot in both their minds.

Sokka found himself gripping his club tightly, his teeth set on edge. His instincts, though often wrong, screamed at him to run away, but he nerved himself to follow his friend.

And then they were standing in front of the mass of crystals, just within arms reach. They stared at the giant sparkling geode, which no longer held any beauty or mystery for either of them. A cold, hard knot of dread formed in their stomachs and made them tremble sickeningly.

And suddenly, the crystal was staring back at them with cold grey eyes.

* * *

Zuko could hear the nasty little spider scavengers behind him, rasping and squealing, their horrible little four-fingered gripping feet tearing up the dirt as they scuttled after him through the dense brush. He had a vague idea of where he was going: to the waterfall, to where the Avatar and the Water Tribe warrior were. At least with three of them, they might be able to fight off this horde of little monsters. 

_I'm running to my enemy for help,_ Zuko thought bitterly. _I'll never live this day down. This is so humiliating. My enemies are helping me and I'm helping them in return…_

He chanced a quick glance at Katara, bouncing lightly in his hold as he struggled across the uneven ground, his swollen foot aching as he pelted through the underbrush.

Yes, he supposed saving her life was helping the Avatar in some small way. Not that the 13-year-old needed her or anything. As he ran, he wondered what it must be like to be a bender traveling with the Master of the Elements. He wondered how this fledgling Waterbender, who could become powerful with time and training, would allow herself to live in the Avatar's shadow.

_Perhaps she loves him_, Zuko's brained suggested. The prince gritted his teeth as he dodged under a low-hanging branch. Though it presented some intriguing possibilities, he didn't like the thought of that. Not one bit.

* * *

The granite grey eyes blinked at the boys slowly, taking in their presence. 

Sokka yelped and jumped back.

"Ack! D-do you see—"

"I see it Sokka," Aang reassured, not taking his eyes off the crystal mass. The water boy gripped his arm tightly.

The young Avatar narrowed his eyes. He growled lowly, "Okay Fonquay, show yourself."

Sokka looked at his friend in alarm. Fonquay? Wasn't he the ghost in the In-Between or something?

Then he saw it move. The crystal mass and the grey eyes heaved themselves up, prying out of the wall, exposing black rock behind the shining crystals. But it didn't get all the way up: the creature seemed to be half embedded in the granite, its left leg trapped up to mid-thigh, its right elbow grown into the crystals.

The thing was nothing but shards upon shards of crystal. A thin slit that was its mouth parted open as it let out sigh revealing a black granite tongue and pebbly teeth.

Sokka shivered, remembering King Bumi's creeping crystal rings that had almost entirely encased him and Katara.

"So," a hideous screech, like the sound of metal on metal, was this thing's voice. "You've figured it out, have you? I knew you were a bright one."

Aang glared at the crystal Lord Fonquay. "Why did you lie to me?" He demanded. "What do you want?"

"Want? Want?" Fonquay laugh bitterly. It sounded like breaking glass. "All I wanted was her. All I wanted was her love! And she threw it in my face, and took in that… that dirty flame thrower!" The creature struggled in his unbreakable prison. If Sokka wasn't so horrified by its appearance, he'd have smashed the pitiful creature's head in, as one would smash an especially ugly spider. It was just so horrible looking, it made the water boy's skin crawl.

Fonquay let out a sob. "She condemned me here for setting her free! I would have loved her, cherished her, been her slave… and what does she do? Doom me to this!" He glared around, his granite eyes full of hate and insanity.

Aang did not budge. He wore an impassive expression, his eyes dull and grey and unforgiving as a winter sky.

Sokka, though still unnerved by the thing's appearance, found himself asking: "How could a Waterbender do this to you? This isn't ice."

The crystal thing's eyed the boy. "She was much more powerful than that. She prolonged my life so she could leave me here to rot forever. I don't know how she did it, but she used my bending powers against me to imprison me in the wall. I don't even have Earthbending powers anymore!" He made a strangled sound in his throat, something between a laugh and a moan.

"You lied to me." Aang whispered. He was staring at his clenched fists. "And you killed the Firebender."

Fonquay sneered. "I didn't kill him, his own kind did!"

"YOU KILLED HIM!" Aang screeched back.

Sokka shrank back. He had never heard the boy react like this before.

"WHY DID YOU DO IT? WHY COULDN'T YOU HAVE LEFT ME ALONE?" Aang's harsh voice echoed throughout the cavern, disturbing whatever lived in its shadowy corners.

_Wait a second_, Sokka glanced at the mostly naked monk. Left _me _alone?

"I DIDN'T WANT YOU AND STILL YOU CAME! I TOLD YOU NO, AND YOU TOOK IT FOR YES!" Aang screamed. His whole body, though small, seemed suddenly enormous, his back erect, his shoulders straight. He pointed at the crystal golem, proclaiming judgment. "YOU WILL SUFFER FOR YOUR PERSISTENCE, AND I WILL GLADLY DISPENSE YOUR PUNISHMENT!"

A blast of wind radiated out of Aang, knocking Sokka over. _Oh no, not again…_

Sokka leapt to his feet and grabbed the boy's shoulders. The boy's Airbender tattoos glowed faintly against the brilliant light of the crystals as the wind whipped around him. "Aang!" He shouted, and spun him around.

The little monk's mischievous baby-like face was gone. A hard-eyed woman glared back at him, her soft, rounded features marred by a look of pure malice. Sokka leapt back.

The woman's eyes widened, her features suddenly softening.

"Zuko?" She breathed.

The wind died instantly, and Aang collapsed on the ground.

* * *

**BWAHAHA! I insert even MORE mystery! Is your head spinning yet? Do you hate these cliffies? More answers to more questions! BWAHAHA! Mine is an evil laugh!**


	12. Ch 12: Condemned

**Rapid fire! Three chapters up in one night, just because I love you all so much. Thanks for all your awesome reviews! They make me all warm and fuzzy inside, plus it keeps my writing fires hot.**

**I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender. **

* * *

_Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa._ Sokka's mind reeled, trying to get a grip on reality. He began by listing out the things he knew to be true - grass is green, the sky is blue. Okay. Let's try something harder. 

First, the possession. Okay, that was something he'd seen before. No big deal.

But second, had Aang/the Waterbending woman just mistaken him for _Zuko_? What did the prince have to do with all this? He shuddered in disgust. He didn't look anything like Zuko! The absence of that hideous scar was a dead giveaway, plus he was in Water Tribe clothes, _and _he wasn't a pasty-skinned, freakishly muscular Firebender.

Maybe possessing a person messed up the ghost's vision or something.

"Pfft. Besides, I've got _way _better hair," he muttered to himself reassuringly.

He bent over Aang and checked his vitals. The boy was asleep. Under any other circumstances, he wouldn't worry – the other times the Avatar spirit had claimed him, he had been exhausted afterwards. But here and now, in this strange cave on this strange island inhabited by angry spirits and weird crystal people, he had to assume the worst.

An icy cackle came from Fonquay. "Looks like it's just you and me now, kid."

Sokka glowered at the pitiful creature. "What do you want?"

"I want what everyone else wants," Fonquay said simply. "Freedom. Peace. Half of my soul is locked up in some god-forbidden realm. The rest of me has been trapped in this wall for over three centuries. Probably more, since I can't tell when day and night passes. Do you have any idea how crazy that will make you?"

Oh yeah. Sokka had a very good idea.

"Why should I believe you? You lied to Aang about everything!" Sokka said in disbelief.

"Look sonny, do you think he would have helped me out if I had told him the truth? That I did play a part in that poor boy's murder? That I let my obsession with Karanna completely overwhelm me?" The creature looked away, disgusted. "I've had centuries to think about it, and let me tell you something: guilt doesn't get any better with time. I want to die. And I want to die before there's no one left on this island to kill me."

The Water Tribe warrior's heart softened with pity, but he still didn't trust the trapped man. _A wolf in a snare is more dangerous than a wolf running free…_

"If you want any help at all, you're going to have to tell the truth. All of it." Sokka folded his arms and sat down next to his slumbering friend.

Fonquay sighed, hissing through his teeth.

"Fine." The crystal man settled himself in the only comfortable position he could manage and began.

"I came to this island looking for riches, but my crew abandoned me while I was spelunking in the mountain caves. Fire people were in the waters. My crew wasn't going to wait for me while those dirty, nasty fire throwers skinned them alive and ate their flesh."

"Fire Nation doesn't do that!" Sokka exclaimed, then hesitated. "…Do they?"

"So here I was, stuck. I made myself comfortable and explored the island. I came across these things—" he gestured at the crystals all around him "—and knew that if I ever got off the island, I'd be a very rich man."

"So, what, you're not a real Lord?" Sokka sniggered. The crystal man glowered. "Oh."

"Then Karanna came along. I just spotted her one day, walking through a field of flowers. I must have been on the island maybe a year and a half, probably more. I was so lonely…" he looked off dreamily. "And she was so beautiful."

"I don't need details, just tell me what happened." Sokka said blandly.

"I didn't go to her at first. I couldn't, the way I looked. But I helped her along. I was an Earthbender, you know. I moved rich soil to where she built her camp, and made sure her gardens bloomed and flourished," Fonquay smiled a repulsive, crystal-and-granite-toothed grin. "I did anything… everything for her. And she thought it was because she had landed in paradise that she lived so well."

"And then one day, _he _showed up in his stupid little boat. The disgusting worm of a fire thrower. Zuko."

Sokka had a creeping sense of déjà vu. Zuko. It was just coincidence, he reasoned. Maybe it was a common name in the Fire Nation. And Karanna of the Southern Water Tribe? No, he had no such relation! Katara's name certainly didn't sound anything like Karanna! At all!

He suddenly saw in his mind's eye the look on Prince Zuko's face as he knelt over his helpless sleeping sister, that soft, pained look some people get when they want something really badly but can't have it…

Sokka wiped his mind clean. No way was that even _remotely _possible. Zuko and Katara? What a mismatch that would be! _Don't worry dad, I won't let him near her…_

"Karanna met him before I could get rid of him. And that was it. I lost her forever to that barbarian. So I introduced myself to her one day, tried to tell her of all the things I'd done for her… but she fled from me. I know now that she was afraid of my power, afraid of what I could do-" Fonquay's eyes brightened, sharpened, pride filling his chest. But he sank down. "I just wanted her to love me."

Sokka frowned. "You couldn't make her love you. So you tried to get rid of the Firebender instead."

"I stole Zuko's boat and paddled until I found another boat of Fire people. I offered them a bushel of my treasure if they took him away. Oddly enough, they had already been searching for him, but I didn't know that at the time. They treated me well, got me cleaned up and respectable looking, called me Lord Fonquay... but it was all just a joke to them. I brought them back to the island and they…" Fonquay gulped.

"They killed him. I didn't mean for that to happen, honest I didn't. But at the time, I hated him so much I didn't care. I just wanted Karanna to love me."

An ominous tone edged into the crystal creature's squeak. "And then she did all those horrible things, tore that man limb from limb, killed everything in the lake…" He squeezed his granite eyes shut. "And I was dying, but she wouldn't let me. She put me here, healed me with her powers, and she tore my soul in half and made me live as she felt, half a person without her Zuko…" He sobbed. It was probably the first time the thing had cried to someone in his centuries of solitary imprisonment, and it sounded horrible in the water boy's ears. "Why couldn't she just have loved me and killed me? This would never have happened if she had just tried to love me!"

Sokka watched the broken barely-a-man silently, lips thinned.

"You're right." He said after a moment. "You do deserve to die."

* * *

Aang groaned and sat up. "Huh? Sokka, what happened? Why am I naked?" He looked down at himself. 

Relieved to see that Aang was alive and awake, Sokka helped the Avatar to his feet, reminding him of all that had happened and explaining his theory about the spirit possession.

"That'd make sense if she was an Avatar," Aang said as Sokka finished. "The same thing happened to me with Avatar Roku," He fit the jigsaw pieces together in his mind, but he still wasn't sure what he was dealing with.

"Fonquay told me about what happened," Sokka said, and briefly recounted it for Aang.

"Did he tell you about the statue?" Aang asked blandly, watching the golem with disgust. "He carved it himself, offered it as a gift. When she rejected it, he threw it into the waterfall pool to mock her."

Sokka grimaced, arching an eyebrow at the golem. "Oookay, creepy stalker sculptor…"

"Then he tried to make a deal." Aang spat. "He offered a bunch of those crystal thingies to the Firebender in exchange for her," he glowered at the ashamed looking crystal man-thing. "He wanted to buy her. She told me that much."

Sokka started. "Who? Karanna?"

Aang nodded. "She didn't really tell me, I just know. She was an Avatar, Sokka, I'm sure of it now. I don't remember her, but she's a small part of me, I can feel it. I think the rest of her is still here, on this island. Her life was so short and painful, I don't think I _could _remember it even if I wanted to. Maybe she didn't even know she was the Avatar."

Sokka mulled this over. Fonquay muttered. "Well, that explains a lot."

"What did you say?" Sokka asked.

Fonquay sighed. "Karanna was the one who cursed me to this existence. I live literally with one foot in the grave." He waggled his embedded stump of a leg. "As the Avatar, she would have had enough power to do this."

The boys looked at him skeptically. It was all too strange to believe, and Fonquay could see he was losing his credibility in the boys' eyes. "Avatar, you saw it happen, did you not?"

Aang nodded.

"Her killing blow condemned me to this half life. She used up all her power to tear my soul in two, and then bound herself to the earth and water, making sure I would not rest until she had her fill of vengeance," Fonquay sighed, resigned. "I didn't know Waterbenders could do that. I don't think they can. But an Avatar, as the link between the Spirit Realm and this one…" he trailed off.

Aang didn't want to hear the conclusion to that sentence. It was too painful to think that an Avatar, who was supposed to help people and maintain the balance, would do the terrible things Karanna had done. He wondered with a shudder if he would ever be gripped by the same maddening power that would destroy him from the inside out.

"She's been haunting me all this time, you know. She's stuck here as much as I am, living her own kind of half life, though I guess for her it's more like an undead death. She's neither dead, nor alive, neither living in this realm or the Spirit Realm. That's why I have to die. I have to have peace…" He looked away. "And I have to give her peace too."

"But what about all the other wraiths? The people and animals in the In-Between?" Aang asked.

"That part I told you was the truth. They are the spirits of benders, or the creatures who drank directly from the lake, and they're what feed her powers over me."

"So, let me see if I get this straight," Sokka pinching the bridge of his nose. "This Avatar, Karanna, is taking her vengeance out on you because you betrayed her lover to his death. But to do that forever, which is a really long time, she has to feed off of other benders powers?"

Fonquay nodded.

"And these benders just waltz onto the island, drink the water, and die here, and they show up in the In-Between and get stuck there?"

Fonquay nodded more emphatically.

"But their spirits are also half-trapped here. So the wraiths live half-lives in the In-Between and can't journey into the Spirit Realm, right?"

Nod.

"So really, this is all your fault." Sokka frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. Fonquay bobbed in shameful affirmation, weeping silently once more.

"You killed more than those Fire Nation soldiers with your betrayal that day," Aang said dispassionately. He had seen hundreds, maybe even thousands of men, women, children, and animals in the In-Between, all there because of this man.

"I want… to make… it… right," the crystal man hiccupped and looked into the young boy's face. "Please… help me."

The Avatar paused, glaring down his nose at the embedded golem. Sokka thought he was about to say no. "I'll help," Aang replied coldly. "I'll help free the victims of your own stupid jealousy, and I'll help my friend. If I'm helping you in the process, fine. Now how do I do that?"

"I don't know… you'll have to break the curse somehow," Fonquay whispered. "The water and the curse are the keys, that's all I know."

"I don't understand. You told me the water was poisoned by the blood of the Firebenders; that the water was the curse," Aang said.

Fonquay snarled suddenly in frustration. "No! Don't you see? She IS the water. She's in the air, a cold, damp ghost. She gives life to this island and takes it away. She's everywhere, and we can't escape her." Fonquay shuddered in his crystal prison.

"But how come—"

"Why don't you believe me? Do you want your friend to die? Please, I'm begging you, release me from this!" Fonquay cried.

* * *

Zuko couldn't feel his foot anymore, and the scuttling behind him had faded away some time ago, but he dared not stop and turn around. If he did that, the creatures were sure to pop up in front of him, considering how his day was going. 

His heart pumped madly as he ran, his breath ragged, his arms screaming from holding the girl so tightly to his chest. He snagged his swollen foot on a tree root and sprawled forward, but at the last minute he threw all his weight onto his side, landing hard on the shoulder Sokka had bashed in earlier.

He let out an agonizing cry in pain and frustration. Katara was still curled awkwardly in his arms. She had bumped softly into the ground, and lay limply in the dark brown peat. He extracted himself and got to his feet quickly, readying himself for another attack of the scavenger creatures.

None came. He peered into the darkness, listening intently. They must have given up their chase for an easier meal.

The Fire Prince slumped down, satisfied nothing else was going to put him in danger for the moment. He inspected his foot, probing at the oozing cut. Ooh, that's not good. He pulled the leg of his pants up and saw that the veins in his calf were dark, full of poison. His stomach lurched as he thought of all the horrible things that would have to be done to save his life. Horrible medicines. Leeches. Blood letting. Amputation.

He cursed. _Gods, why do you see fit to disfigure me so…?_

Then he stopped with a sickening realization. He had just been running at full tilt for what seemed like forever. How much of that poisoned blood was pumping through his system now? He had seen fast-acting poisons do their work in less than five minutes, but this was probably one of those slow, paralyzing poisons that would freeze up his body so he became a nice warm meal to be enjoyed at leisure.

Just as panic threatened to grip him, he relaxed. A cold calm swept through him. There was nothing he could do now. It was all over. He was going to die. His uncle was going to die. They were all going to die on this stupid island, and their deaths would be ignoble and unknown.

Banished. Disinherited. Dishonoured. Dead.

_Life. Really. Sucks._

He looked down at Katara, and gently brushed some dirt off her silken cheek. Something in his chest fluttered.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that he had been that other Zuko, the one his uncle had named Kimji, the dashing young man who had spent a glorious day at a carnival with a beautiful girl, all thoughts of the Avatar and his exile banished from his mind in her presence.

It had really only been two weeks ago, and he had admitted to himself that he was in love with this girl then. It had become a foolish notion that made him laugh out loud. But now, hovering on the edge of mortality, he stared into the girl's peaceful countenance and wondered if perhaps he had always been in love with her.

He thought back to all the times he'd been on the Avatar's trail, but could not remember any particular day when he had felt anything for her especially. The only reason he had ever watched for her was because she and her brother stood out, the dark skin and blue robes a dead giveaway.

He remembered their first one-on-one encounter, when the pirates had captured her. He had tried to reason with her, had practically tried to seduce her into cooperating, offering her necklace as collateral. And still she had refused him.

He remembered the bounty hunter Jun, asking if the necklace belonged to his runaway girlfriend, and how she had said Katara was way too pretty for him.

And then he remembered that moment they shared together, watching the fountain of eternity in Ho'Wan as the flame danced lightly on the water's surface, two opposing elements existing together in harmony.

His finger traced a line down her neck. There was the necklace. He touched the cool pendant resting against the hollow of her throat and felt at ease. While it was in his possession, he had developed a habit of rubbing it in his pocket while thinking. It was smooth and soothing and pleasant to look at… not unlike Katara. Would rubbing her make him feel better?

He scolded himself for his decidedly un-prince-like behaviour. The thing in his chest hungered, but was stifled by a new thought. Zuko wanted her, yes, but more importantly, he wanted her to want him too.

The Fire Nation prince gazed into the water girl's face. Was this really love, or just some teenage infatuation? Would he ever know someone else like her that would make him feel the way he did at this very moment?

His fingers lingered over her skin, tracing a line along her smooth jaw. He sighed in resignation.

What did it matter? He was going to die anyhow.

The prince stood, gathered the water girl into his arms once more, and marched on through the forest, ignoring the numbness creeping up his leg. He had purpose now. Direction. Certainty.

He would find the Avatar. He would not let Katara die. And he would not die without honour.

* * *

**Don't worry folks, I won't let him near her... or will I? bwahaha... Please review! I'm anxious to know if this is making sense!**  



	13. Ch 13: Death

**SleepingDragon13 posted me a hilarious message that I just had to share:**

* * *

**One of my friends noticed that in the Agni Kai scene in epi 3...Zhao doesn't seem to have nipples.  
I asked her why the hell she was looking at Zhao and she just said that she was "Taking in the view."**

**GROSS!**

**Me: My ears! scarred for life!  
Zuko: YOU THINK U HAVE PROBLEMS!  
Me: good point.**

* * *

**"They will call me Zhao the conqueror! Zhao the moonslayer! Zhao, the INVINCIBLE!"**

**Zuko: Zhao the Nippleless?  
Zhao: Shut up!  
Zuko: (pinch pinch) Tee hee! No nipples!  
Zhao: AHH! STOP THAT!**

**And now, I bring you Chapter 13****. Also, I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender. But if Nick wants to hire me as a writer... (pleeeeeeease...?)  
**

* * *

Katara made stew. Katara ate stew. Katara smiled at her lover, the handsome Kimji/Zuko, who smiled back and cupped her cheek, brushing her skin with his thumb. His touch was her paradise. 

She found herself crying, but she didn't know why. He smiled sadly back and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

When he pulled away from her, he was dead and she had stopped crying. He lay on the ground, blood pooling around him, seeping into the thirsty dust of the earth. She stared at the body, an overwhelming sense of calm pulsing through her veins. No, not calm: void.

And the emptiness filled with the rush of her cold element. She could sense the water everywhere. In the air, in the ground, in the trees… even in people. She could feel it, that essential element of life, racing through her, rushing through the ground beneath her feet, floating formlessly on the wind. Everywhere. She was the water, she was the air, she was the tree…

She looked down at her crimson stained hands and smiled.

And the world became a torrent of blood.

* * *

A long moment of silence followed Fonquay's outburst. The boys stared silently into the cavern, their thoughts bleak. They couldn't let it end like this. 

Aang felt a ball of anger and frustration grow in his chest as the seconds ticked past. Each moment he remained inactive was another moment Katara lost off her life. But he couldn't stop time. He couldn't do anything. He didn't know what to do.

He wanted to lash out and blow the mountain apart, summon a gale force wind to simply wipe the cursed island off the face of the world. But as it was, he could barely bend a slight breeze. He couldn't bend at all.

What if he couldn't ever bend again? Would he still be the Avatar? The Avatar Spirit was still actively inside him: when it had possessed him – or, more accurately, when Karanna had possessed him – he had regained his phenomenal Airbending abilities briefly, but he had no control over it. Was he doomed to simply be a vessel for the Avatar's unlimited power, a container for a force lying dormant inside him? Was he going to become a puppet to those powers every time disaster rushed headlong at him? He almost never knew what he'd done when that Spirit seized him. It just used him up and cast him aside.

His resentment faded and was replaced by remorse. Once upon a time, he had wished he were just like the other kids, and not destined to save the world and restore balance.

Such was the nature of Irony: it chooses the worst opportunities to rear its ugly head.

"Is this what it's like?" Aang whispered to the former Earthbender quietly.

Fonquay turned his grey eyes away, understanding exactly what the young boy was asking. He did not reply.

Meanwhile, Sokka was furiously digesting all the information he'd gleaned from the tales of the Firebender and Waterbender lovers. His eyes darted back and forth as the rusty gears in his mind turned, looking for the loophole, the answer, the solution to this supernatural conundrum. But it wasn't like trying to get a door open, or trying to fix a broken toy. That was the problem: there was no definite solution. _Man, I hate magic_, he scowled around at the glowing crystals. Then it came to him.

"Aang, the vessels you told me about, the ones holding the trapped souls: they must be these crystals," he gestured around them. "It makes sense to keep them where she can access them. If we can just weaken her somehow…"

The boy blinked at what his companion was suggesting. "We can't just destroy them Sokka! Even if it weakened her, we'd be destroying other people's souls. We can't do that to them, not after what they've been put through."

_But if it saves Katara, I will_, Sokka thought darkly, his grip tightening around his club. He just hoped it wouldn't come to that. He huffed.

"Okay, let's walk this through. The water is cursed. Karanna is bound to the water. So that means…"

"Karanna IS the curse." Fonquay finished for him impatiently. "I don't think there's a way to destroy all the water on the island and destroy her in the process—"

"No," Aang said sharply. "No more killing."

Fonquay sighed. "Then I don't know. She's the one who has to let go. If she could just have her fill, be done with me, know that I am sorry, that I can't ever repay her for what I've done…" A despairing look crept into the crystal man's face. "I don't even know if I can let go. I don't know if she'll let me…"

"Think Aang," Sokka urged. "How would you forgive this guy? What would you want to hear? What would he have to do?"

"I wouldn't forgive him," the boy hissed. "I'd let him keep suffering for what he did."

"That's not you talking," Sokka said. "You're the Avatar. You have a responsibility to protect and help others. You can't go taking revenge out on people you don't know."

Aang remained silent, staring at his feet. "She's mad, you know." He barely whispered.

"I know. I'd be angry too."

"No. I mean she's gone nuts. Karanna. Seeing her lover killed right in front of her… it was horrible Sokka. I don't know if she can forgive."

Sokka harrumphed, tired of the self-pitying dead Waterbender Avatar. "Well, she'll just have to forget then! I'm sick of this! She's taking other people's lives and making everyone miserable when the only one who should really be punished is the Fire Nation guy and him!" He shouted, pointing at Fonquay, who whimpered and stared at the ground desolately.

"Sokka—"

"Listen Aang. You're the link between the realms. Go and talk to her or something! I can't just stand here while my little sister lies dying in the woods, with only Zuko to protect her!"

A ripple of cold in the air was followed by a shushing sound of water. Sokka grabbed Aang's arm in alarm.

"What… What was that?"

"I think you just said the magic word, boy," Fonquay looked around the cavern, cocking a crystal eyebrow.

"What? Zuko?" The feeling that overwhelmed him was unmistakable this time. The cool rush of damp air came like a sigh, or a rain of tears. The water boy felt a strange mixture of longing and regret throb in his heart. He shuddered and shook it off. _Eew, gross! As if I would feel that way for Zuko! _He thought sourly, his face screwing up.

Aang's eyes closed, as though he were listening to gentle whisperings in his ear. He breathed deeply as he opened his grey eyes again.

"She never said goodbye," Aang intoned meditatively. "Maybe if we give her what she wants, she'll let go. Give us all some peace." He peeked at Fonquay.

There was a beat before Aang and Sokka looked at each other. "We gotta get Zuko here." They said together.

* * *

Zuko struggled through the brush, his leg completely numb up to his hip. He only knew by the pressure in his leg socket that he was still trudging on, Katara in his arms. 

He kept glancing down at her, making sure she was still alive and breathing. He tried very hard not to think about the way her warm body was pressed against his chest, the motion of her bouncing form chafing his skin as she rubbed into the rough sweater. Maybe she would wake up.

But she didn't. She remained in her perfect slumber, dreaming about whatever Waterbenders dream about.

He had no idea where he was. He had strayed from the stream he had been following to evade the scavengers, hiking through the dense brush, and now he was entirely lost. The tree canopy was too thick for him to even get his bearings by the stars. Every tree looked the same in the pitch black of night. He could be walking hopelessly in circles, for all he knew.

Weary, aching and without hope, Zuko let out a short groan of defeat, slowing to a bare shuffle. He could give up. Lie down next to Katara and wait to die. Maybe they would die together and end up holding hands in the Spirit Realm. That would be nice.

_Coward_, his brain spat. _You're a warrior and a prince. Start earning your honour and your crown._

_Honour_, he told himself. _Yes. I have my honour to protect. I will return this girl safely to her brother. I will make peace with the Avatar before I pass on. And I will die a hero in their eyes._

_That is more than I can ever hope for… even if I were to live._

And suddenly, as if this clarity of thought and purpose were translated into life, a clearing opened up in front of him, the rush of the musical waterfall suddenly loud and welcoming in his ears like a clarion of trumpets on the wind. How had he not heard it before?

With a sigh of relief, he trudged up to the shore and placed Katara gently on the ground. He spotted the Avatar's bright red and orange clothes carelessly heaped on the shore. _They must have jumped into the water and swum into the cave_, he thought. He picked up the garments and neatly folded them into a pillow, placing it under the water girl's head.

He sat down heavily next to her, gravity suddenly becoming very difficult to fight. His head spun, and the black spots resumed their little dance before his eyes. His weakened body's adrenaline rush had finally been spent.

The prince watched the girl's breathing through his wavering vision. He brushed her perfect cheek once more with his thumb, and dared to run it across her soft, slightly parted lips.

There were so many things he wanted to say to the world, to his father, to his crew, to his loving Uncle Iroh, to the Avatar, to Katara…

_I'm sorry I can never tell you_, he swallowed.

Zuko didn't feel the single tear roll down his cheek.

He sat by her side, his hand gently clasping hers. He closed his eyes, and waited for death to overtake him.

* * *

_I am the water._

_I am the mist. I am the drop. I am the puddle. I am the pond. I am the lake. I am the ocean._

_I am the water in the leaves. I am the water in the tress. I make things strong. I make things grow. I give life. I am mother to it._

_But I can take it away. I am the death bringer._

_I am the ice. I am the sleet. I am the wave. I am the tide._

_I am the destroyer. I am the harsh mistress that cleaves the cliffs in twain. I will wear down a mountain with patience. I will tear up the ground as I run through the field. I will sweep all who stand in my way off their feet._

_I am your breath. I am your blood. I am your tears._

_Stand not in my way and cross me not. Or I will make you suffer._

_

* * *

_

Sokka and Aang raced to the cave mouth and hesitated briefly before jumping back into the freezing water. They both came up on the other side of the waterfall, gasping at the piercing chill and swimming hard for the shore. Both knew what they had to do. Get Zuko, appease the spirit, set them all free from this curse.

It seemed simple enough. Sure, Prince Zuko was a far cry from the kindly, loving Firebender Karanna had loved, and they had no idea what he would have to do to make her forgive the crystalline Fonquay. But it would come in a moment of serendipity, wouldn't it? That's how angry spirit curses worked, right?

They thought they'd have to go all the way back to the camp, but their search was over before it began. Lying in a heap on the shore was the Fire Nation Prince... slumped on top of the sleeping Katara.

Sokka yelled. "HEY! What the heck do you think you're doing?" The water boy sloshed loudly out of the water, dripping, and roughly grabbed the Firebender by the shoulders, pulling him off his sister.

The body flopped limply off, landing on his back where Sokka had thrown him.

Aang ran up beside him. "W-where are m-my c-c-clothes?" He asked in a panic, his teeth chattering. The two boys looked around, and found them neatly folded under Katara's head. Aang snatched them out from under her and quickly pulled his pants and shirt on while Sokka turned his attention back on the would-be molester.

"What did you do to her, you lecher?" Sokka shouted furiously. The still form did not respond. "Why are her clothes all torn? Answer me!"

Aang looked down at the prince and froze. He hopped down and inspected the boy's foot. It was swollen to twice its thickness, red and purple around the ankle. The Avatar gingerly pushed the torn silk pant leg up past Zuko's knee, swallowing as he saw the black poisoned blood suffusing the veins and arteries. He dropped Zuko's leaden leg and carefully tugged down on his waistband, lifting up the wool sweater: the black poison had snaked up his waist and around his stomach. It was probably in his chest now. He shrank back, gasping.

"Sokka…" Aang paled and gulped. He did not want to go groping for the pulse that he knew would not be there.

"I knew we couldn't trust him! You said we could just leave him tied up, but _no-ooooooo_! What does he do as soon as we're out of sight?—"

"Sokka!" Aang snapped angrily. "I... I think he's dead."

Sokka's face dropped. "What?"

* * *

**I wouldn't kill Zuko off, would I? Could I? He deserves a noble death, though, don't you think? This is pretty noble...**

**Only 2 more chapters after this folks! You're walking toward the light! **


	14. Ch 14: Rebirth

**I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender**.

* * *

_I am the water._

_I am the life bringer, the death bringer. I create life, I destroy life._

_I am the forever cycle. I will be reborn as cloud, as rain, as puddle, as ocean. I have no infancy. I have no age. I just am._

_I am the water._

* * *

The tear had not yet dried on his still face. Did the scarred side cry, she wondered? Of course it did. But the water would not come as easily. 

She sat up and stretched, feeling the skin fill with her essence. It was warm and snug, far too small a container for her, but it worked for her, shared the same water pulse as she, a kinship of blood and flesh and soul. So she ignored the constricting sensation, just as she ignored the two other presences nearby. She needed no one else. Zuko had returned to her.

"My love," she whispered, and knelt by his side. She turned his face, felt the flutter of his life water coursing through his veins. It was weak, and filled with darkness. She lay her head upon his chest, listening with closed eyes. Her heart beat smoothly and calmly compared to his faint and erratic thump-thumping.

"Aang, what's she--?"

"Shh! Don't interrupt!"

"I will not let you die again, Zuko." She extended her arms and called her element to bear the young man's body into the pool. She flowed after it, and let the boy rest in the shallows.

Moving with infinite slowness, the Waterbender grasped the poison in her mind, sifting through the blood, raking through it with her rivulet fingers. Her down-turned palms passed from his face down his chest, along his waist and down his leg, stopping at the gruesomely swollen gash on Zuko's foot.

She drew her hand slowly up, and out came the black ooze through the young man's alabaster skin. A little snake of water wrapped around the ankle and the wound closed with a brilliant blue glow as the last of the poison left him.

She contemplated the dark pool of spider scavenger venom in her palm for a moment before letting it evaporate harmlessly into the air.

"Be reborn better, little inkling." She murmured.

She turned back to Zuko, who lay floating on the water's surface at waist height. It was a simple matter to heal him, now that the poison was gone. Karanna moved the life water through his body, willing it to circulate, pump through his heart, his muscles, his lungs. His chest rose as he inhaled deeply, but his eyes did not open.

She smiled at him serenely, gazing along the length of his handsome young form. A great sadness welled inside here.

She would not be here much longer. There were things that had to be undone. Bad things that needed to be withdrawn from her paradise, like the poison in Zuko's body.

"Zuko, it's time to wake up," she bent and whispered softly in his ear. Her lips brushed his cheekbone.

"It's still dark out," he mumbled. "Let me sleep."

"No Zuko, I need you now." Karanna waved her arms, effortlessly using her element to bring Zuko to a standing position. He groggily staggered to his feet, his mind somewhere between dream and awake. He pouted like a small child being kicked out of bed.

"I have to go away now, Zuko," the Waterbender said quietly. "But I'll make things right before I go. I am sorry I could not save you the first time."

She gazed down, and Aang and Sokka could feel her remorse, sensing it like the scent of lilies in the air. A large, sparkling tear rolled down her cheek, pulsing with a brilliant white light that matched those of the crystals in the cave. It dropped into the water, shimmering. The effect spread through the water, through the pool, up the waterfall, and out the myriad little streams criss-crossing the island.

A sound like a million birds taking wing washed over the island. And though the night sky was clear and the waning moonset lit the landscape with the last of its silvery rays, it began to rain.

"I will see you soon, my love." She whispered. "Live this life well."

Prince Zuko opened his eyes sleepily as Karanna's arms flowed over his shoulders and around his neck.

And using Katara's young, supple body, the dead Waterbender Avatar kissed the Prince of the Firebenders, breaking the curse and freeing Fonquay from his prison, the souls from their crystal thrall, and the wandering wraiths of the In-Between.

Aang suddenly felt a weight and dankness lift from him. He hadn't even realized just how heavy his limbs had felt. A great gust of wind lifted him briefly off the ground, and he grinned for the first time that night.

Sokka stared at the clear sky in bewilderment, blinking the rain out of his eyes as he wondered where it was coming from.

Appa, who had been out cold and hidden in a nearby copse of trees where he had been grazing, stirred, groaned, and staggered up onto to his six legs. Momo chattered enthusiastically as the beast rose, exhausted after all he had done to keep the spidery scavengers away from the incapacitated bison. The little monsters who had surrounded Appa shrieked angrily and scurried away, deprived of an easy meal for the second time that night.

Iroh felt the rain lick his neck and he groggily sat up, his bones aching. He glanced at the empty mead bottle that had fallen from his grasp and sleepily swore, never again.

The rest of the Firebenders did much the same. The crew members who were just plain drunk kept sleeping.

And Zuko… well, he didn't care much about anything except that he was kissing Katara's soft, pliant lips, his strong arms wrapped tightly around her supple waist.

And when their lips finally broke, the drained prince went limp and passed out for a third time that night, landing with a loud, unceremonious splash in the shallows.

* * *

"He always did get a bit weak in the knees when I did that," Karanna murmured to herself, smiling. She looked up, feeling a second water kinship with one of the nearby presences. It was a familiarity she had never experienced with anyone else before. She turned her milky gaze upon it. 

She stared long and hard at the little boy with the blue arrow tattoos. He stared back with equal intensity. It was like looking at her distorted reflection in a pool of water. She relaxed as she finally understood who he was.

"You have a long task ahead of you, little one," she said. "Had I known it was my destiny as well, I would not have run away from it, and into... this." She looked around her former paradise sadly.

Aang stepped forward. "But you found love. Some things are worth the sacrifice," he said.

Karanna shook her head. "But the price was far too high." She said softly. She looked up to face the inky sky, the mysterious rain pelting her cheeks. And then, with a burst of brilliant blue-white light, Avatar Karanna's spirit left Katara's body, shooting up into the deep indigo night and dissipating like mist on the wind.

Katara slumped to her knees in the water, landing neatly in Zuko's outstretched arms.

* * *

The gentle rain tapered off. The forest was quiet once more, except for the rush of the waterfall, which no longer glowed with the iridescence of the crystals, now emptied of the trapped souls. The faintest sliver of orange rimmed the horizon. Dawn approached. 

But the excitement wasn't over yet.

Sokka felt a great unease stir within him as he and the young Avatar dragged the two sleeping "lovers" out of the shallow water, unlatching them from the other's embrace. Just then, they spotted something creeping towards them out of the cave mouth. They could barely make out the spindly silhouette behind the falls, but Aang knew who it was.

"Fonquay." He said dispassionately. Setting Katara's light body down, he took a stance and placed his palms together, as though praying.

With great gusto, he pulled them apart. The cascade of water split down the centre and was drawn back like a curtain, revealing the knobby, dirty, wraith of a man standing behind it. He was naked, except for the loin cloth that, thank the gods, clung stubbornly to his pitiful form. There were no crystals about his persons, nor was he solid granite. But he was crumbling, with great clods of earthen flesh dripping off his persons.

"Avatar," Fonquay said hoarsely. "You have kept your promise. Thank you."

And the man tipped over into the water to join his rejected gift, the quartz statue of his would-be love. Sokka and Aang were about to jump in and save him, but the man's body dissolved in a fizz. A scattering of dust and sand floated to the surface of the pool.

"GROSS!" Sokka gagged. "Sad… and weird... and… _eeeeewww_, _soooo _gross!"

"Speaking of sad and weird and gross, what do we do with him?" Aang indicated the passed-out prince with a jerk of his thumb.

Sokka watched Zuko suspiciously, unconvinced he was fully asleep. He thought about taking his wool sweater back, but decided he'd never wear it again anyhow, not after the Fire Nation prince had worn it. _Ugh, how creepy would that be?_

Still, as he mulled over the night's events, he saw Zuko in a whole new light, though it still wasn't a very flattering light. Sokka still didn't like the Fire Nation prince, and would probably kill him given a sporting chance, but the prince had brought his sister to him and had almost died in the process. Plus, he had saved them all… in a passive not-doing-anything kind of way.

He wondered briefly about what had happened that would force the prideful prince to carry his sister all the way to the waterfall, and how that gash had appeared on his foot. Not that it really mattered to Sokka: they could just leave him here, or maybe throw him back in the water to drown…

Katara's words floated to him from a not-too-distant memory:

_He's a boy, Sokka, just like you! Do you really want to see him dead? Are you as bloodthirsty as they are?_

_But he's the enemy, and he's constantly trying to kill us_. Did it even make sense to think of Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation as anything else? He thought about what his dad would do in a situation like this, and when the answer came, he sighed.

"Aang, you go find Appa and load Katara on. Pack up the camp, too. I'll take sleeping beauty here back to his ship."

Aang blinked at the Water Tribe warrior's uncharacteristically merciful decision. "Sokka, are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, the Fire Nation soldiers will all be waking up and stuff."

The water boy shook his head. "Even if they were cursed, I'm betting they'll all have some pretty bad hangovers." He grinned. "It'll be alright. I mean, what could possibly happen?"

* * *

**"That's what you said about going to the Fire Days Festival!"** **Just one more chapter, folks!**

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	15. Ch 15: The Game

**Welcome to the final chapter of _Bent_. I'd like to thank everyone for their support and the reviews. At the time I wrote this, I had 103 reviews and 4357 hits and it made me feel all fuzzy inside. Who would have thought I'd ever hit the 100 review mark? I'm happy to be writing stuff people want to read, even if it makes everyone crazy that I don't let Zuko "get the girl". But that's what sequels are for, right?**

**I've gotten so many encouraging reviews that there are too many to name here, so I'll spare you all and post all my fave authors and reviewers in my profile.**

**And now, the finale to_ Bent_!**

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**I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.**

* * *

The boys used vines to tie Prince Zuko's wrists together once more. Not that it would save them if he woke up and his Firebending powers had been restored, but it made them feel a little safer. 

Aang used his Airbending to move the sleeping Katara, literally whisking her back to their campsite on a cushion of air. He looked absolutely ecstatic to have his bending powers back, and the brilliant smile on the young monk's face made the night's clinging horrors dissipate like fog in the sun.

With some difficulty, Sokka managed to sling the prince across his shoulders and hike toward the beach, his way lit by the lightening dawn sky. The Firebender wasn't as heavy as he expected, just awkward to hold, being just a touch taller than the Water Tribe boy. A small part of his brain refused to believe he was doing this, and it kept reasoning that the teenage prince, who had been fanatically chasing the trio around the world and generally making their lives miserable, should be dispatched post-haste. But Sokka knew all about karma: he knew he owed Zuko for protecting Katara from whatever it was that had attacked him, and he would not let his debt to the prince accrue interest.

But just for good measure, Sokka made sure he wasn't too careful, and the prince's shaved head banged against some branches and tree trunks as he marched through the dense foliage.

The Fire Nation camp wasn't too far away, but the young Water Tribe warrior didn't take any chances. He gave it a wide berth and unloaded the prince within sight of the beach, leaning him against a tree.

Sokka turned to leave.

"This doesn't change anything between us," Zuko growled.

So he had been awake.

Sokka clenched his fists. Did that arrogant prince always have to have the last word? But Zuko was right. Sokka would not thank the prince for his part in lifting the curse. He would never forgive the prince for anything he had done to the trio since their journey began. They were not friends, and they never would be.

_But you do owe him something for saving your sister_, his father's voice reminded him calmly.

Sokka had only one thing to give the prince.

"Back at Ho'Wan, when you were thrown into the water, you were almost killed. You were going to fall into the rocky shallows. Katara was the one who saved you."

Sokka glanced over his shoulder. Zuko's gold eyes were wide with surprise.

"I'd say you two are square now. She saved your life. I guess you were returning the favour."

_That's your escape route, pal, you'd better take it_, Sokka thought at the young man harshly.

Zuko looked away. "I did what I thought was honourable," he muttered.

_So. That's it, then._

Sokka turned around to face the boy. He looked him over once, as if appraising a piece of furniture. He locked eyes with the prince, fierce blue meeting brilliant gold.

"Zuko," he said flatly. "Stay away from my sister."

And the Water Tribe warrior turned and marched back into the woods, melting into morning mist.

* * *

Sokka found Aang and the now conscious Katara back at their ruined campsite. The sleeping bags had been kicked around, the fire pit's ashes and embers strewn all over the place. Their meager supplies were heaped to one side, untouched. But none of this concerned the trio. Their eyes were glued to the ugly six-legged creature lying dead on the ground. Momo prodded it experimentally and jumped back with a screech when one of its legs twitched. 

"What… what is that thing?" Katara asked in horror.

Sokka inspected the ground, tracing the myriad footprints in the dirt, touching the places where someone had dug their heels in, kicked, fought, and battled the little monster… lots of the little monsters.

He found the burnt ends of the ropes that had bound Zuko's hands and feet scattered in the dirt. He vaguely remembered the burns on the prince's wrists and palms as he and Aang had tied him up the second time, but he had dismissed it as being typical of a Firebender. The young man must have thrust his hands right into the fire.

As Sokka stared at the creature's poisoned mandibles and glazed-over green eyes, the battle played itself out in his mind. He could see Zuko breaking free of his bonds, clearing the creatures away from his sister, grabbing one and smashing it onto the ground, getting bitten, picking up Katara, and running. He had put up quite a fight against a horde of these creatures and nearly lost, choosing to retreat to the waterfall for help with the unconscious Katara in his arms.

The Water Tribe warrior felt a pang of guilt as he realized just how much he owed the Fire Nation prince. But his mind was made up, andas far as he was concerned, he had already cleared his debt.

Katara watched him curiously.

_I promised dad to protect you…_

"They came during the night. Aang and I fought them off," Sokka answered his sister resolutely.

The Avatar's head snapped around to stare at him in shock, but he did not contradict the water boy.

Katara searched her brother's impassive face for more details, but something struck her. She blushed from the neck up as she gasped. "Zuko! He's on the island! I saw him just before I… I passed out…" She looked confused.

"We know. I'll explain it later. Right now, we have to get off this island." As if on cue, the bison lumbered out of the woods.

"Appa! I missed you!" Aang jumped at the beast and scratched the groggy-looking bison behind his ear. "Are you alright?"

The large creature uttered what almost sounded like "Fine" and some kind of apology before licking the Avatar sloppily. Aang's giggle was like music to all their ears.

The three travelers quickly piled their gear into Appa's litter. Aang climbed onto the shaggy beast's neck and took the reins. With a hurried "Yip-yip!" the great flying bison leapt into the pale sky, and the strange island paradise shrank into a blurry dot on the ocean behind them as they climbed higher and higher and further away.

* * *

Sokka watched his sister closely. Though she had slept the entire night, she looked exhausted, dark bags forming under her eyes. She hugged her knees and rested her chin on her folded arms. A slight furrow creased her brow, and her narrowed blue eyes shifted back and forth as she tried to remember something… anything about the night. She did not demand any explanations of him. She just sat there, thinking. 

He hated lying to her, but he had to protect his little sister. He revised the night's events in his head, editing any mention of Zuko's part in the plot from the story. There would be gaps, but he could always fill it in with a simple, "I don't know, I guess that's how magic curses work."

The Water Tribe warrior would have to talk to Aang as well and make sure the cover story was sound, make sure the little monk understood why he was doing this, and make the Avatar promise never to tell his sister what had really transpired.

Despite the night's adventure, Sokka wasn't sure the 13-year-old understood anything about passion, like what Fonquay had felt for Karanna. They had both been sickened by the perverseness of Fonquay's obsession, but he wondered whether or not the Avatar truly knew what desire was. He was a monk after all. Did he know what it was like to want something so bad it drove you mad with determination? Did he know that love could be as destructive to a person's mind and soul as hatred or anger? Did he know what it meant to be possessive?

Sokka made a commitment right then. They would have to be extra careful from now on and avoid the Fire Nation at all costs. They needed to get to the safety of the North Pole as quickly as possible. No more unnecessary stops.

It wasn't that he was afraid of Zuko, or any Fire Nation soldiers. After all, he could hold his own in a fight.

But when Sokka had looked into the prince's hard gold eyes, he knew he did have something to be afraid for.

He watched his little sister, worrying.

* * *

Katara squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't remember much, and the images that did surface in her memory frightened her. Red blood. Blue fire. It was like some terrifying nightmare, but she couldn't say what it was about or why it had scared her. It just did. 

The strangest part about waking up was how tight her skin felt, as though there wasn't enough room for her to exist. It was as if she had expanded into a great big form, and now her flesh was jealously keeping her spirit contained in her tiny body. She felt… swollen, and strangely heavy, as though she bore a great weight in her chest.

She knew it was partly because Aang and Sokka were keeping something from her. Her brother was a terrible liar, and the usually talkative Aang was rigidly steering the bison. But she was too tired to probe either of them, much less care. _Wait until they slip up_, she thought, _I'll find out then._

She looked at her exhausted brother, his eyelids drooping. She dodged forward and gently caught him as he slumped over, and laid him down on his side, tucking her sleeping bag around his damp form. Had the foolish boy been swimming in his clothes? She would have to ask later.

She turned and watched the island shrink behind them. It had been a nice place, until Zuko showed up. She caught a glimpse of the prince's ship in a cove not too far from where they had camped. _What a close call,_ she thought. Had they stayed on the island any longer, they would have been caught for sure.

Suddenly, a strange feeling tugged at her heart, and she gasped a little, grasping her chest as though she had been stabbed. The feeling slowly subsided as she turned away from the sight of the ship.

She lay down next to her brother and closed her eyes. She had a hard time getting to sleep though, because above and beyond all the strangeness around her, all the weird feelings, and the secrets and lies hanging over her head, something very particular was bothering her.

The taste of hot salt lingered on her lips.

* * *

Zuko sat in contemplative silence, his back resting against the tree, the dark sky paling with dawn's light. He meditated, a deepness and stillness he had never experienced before filling his mind and body. He was calm, despite all that had happened that night, as though he was submerged in the depths of the ocean, beneath the turbulent, churning waves above. He felt strangely detached, as though watching himself from within. Each breath he took was a new and unfamiliar sensation. 

He replayed the water boy's words in his mind once more.

_Katara was the one who saved you…_

_…She saved your life…_

Katara had saved him.

He owed her his life. He owed her more than that: he owed her the world.

Would she accept the world from him?

_Stay away from my sister._

Damn that water boy. When he finally caught the trio, the water boy would not be thrown overboard, he decided. No, when he finally caught them-

Zuko's eyes snapped open. The Avatar. He had let him escape… AGAIN.

Something in him roared. It was like opening a furnace that had not been fed for a while and throwing in blasting jelly. The fire in his blood ignited. Zuko struggled to his feet, bracing himself against the tree. The thin bindings around his wrists and ankles snapped as hot blue flames rolled over his chilled body.

The water boy's ugly, itchy wool sweater molted off him. The knitted yarn charred to black and orange cinders before blowing off his alabaster skin, like black snow and raven down on the wind.

_Ah, that's better_, he thought, feeling the fire in him roar.

He stalked back to the landing site, itching to yell at whoever crossed his path first. He'd make sure those drunken idiots suffered through the most hellish hangover imaginable for not being at their posts.

"UNCLE!" He bellowed as he emerged from the woods. He could see the men picking themselves up off the sand, rubbing their aching heads. A few hurried into the woods, and he could hear them retching and heaving the previous night's royally rich food up. _What a waste. _

Iroh staggered up arthritically, holding his back. Zuko trudged up to him and scowled around at the troops.

"WHY ARE THE MEN STILL LOLLYGAGGING ABOUT? THE AVATAR HAS JUST ESCAPED!" He pointed at the bison's shrinking form.

Iroh shaded his eyes against the dawn sky dizzily and uttered a curse, more for his headache than the retreating Avatar.

As Zuko paced about the camp, grabbing various crew members off the ground and hauling them to their feet, the general realized that his nephew was back to normal. Or what passed for normal for the banished, royal teen, anyhow.

"GET UP YOU LAZY BUNCH OF SWINE! IS THIS HOW YOU THANK YOUR PRINCE FOR HIS GENEROSITY? BY LETTING HIS PREY ESCAPE?" The young man swiftly booted a soldier in the rump and shouted some more unpleasant things, raging and making a much bigger ruckus than Iroh was used to seeing.

The old general could have sworn the prince was actually enjoying the tantrum. He smiled to himself as the men hastily cleared the camp and scuttled up the ramp onto the ship.

If they were displeased by the rude awakening, they did not show it. Iroh was certain they were as relieved as he was that the prince had finally returned to his usual moods. The storm was passing. At least he was back to being the mostly predictable, temperamental prince now.

They were packed and back on the seas in under an hour. Zuko stood at the ship's prow once more, his gold eyes glued to the speck in the sky that was the Avatar's giant flying bison. He was still wearing his silk drawers, and hadn't changed into his armour as he normally would have by this time of day.

Sipping a cup of willow bark tea to take the edge off his hangover, Iroh noticed the boy's pants had been ripped, and a large purple bruise had formed on the boy's bare shoulder. The hands clasped behind his back had scald marks on the heels of his palms. He looked the worse for wear, haggard and dirty, battered and bruised. And yet, the prince's lips, which were normally pursed in a thin line, were turned ever-so-slightly upward at the corners. Was his nephew actually _smiling_?

"Nephew," Iroh began uncertainly. "Did something happen back on the island?"

Zuko's gaze remained fixed on the sky, his brow furrowed in thought. "Yes Uncle."

Iroh waited for further explanation, but none came.

"_Annnnnnnd…?_" He prodded.

The young man turned to look his esteemed elder in the face, his gold eyes blazing with renewed determination. The glint seemed almost… hopeful. Iroh smiled to see this, but deep down, he felt something had changed. His nephew's zeal for the hunt seemed to have been intensified somehow. It was as though there was something more, something new to be gained in this wild, round-the-world chase for the elusive Avatar - a new prize to be won in this game of cat-and-mouse.

Whatever it was, it would only serve to drive his nephew toward his goal with even greater conviction. He sighed inwardly as he perceived what lay in the weeks ahead.

Zuko ignored the old man's inquiring look. He sighed. "I'll tell you later. Stay on the Avatar's trail, and don't lose him. I'm going to bathe. No disturbances."

Iroh watched him trudge away, and began to wonder about all the peculiar things he had dreamt about in the night. Of course, he knew better than to bring it up with the troubled young prince. The answers would come in time, and the old Dragon of the West had the patience of a glacier.

He retired to his quarters and the comforting dark to nurse his headache.

* * *

Zuko sat in his private bath, soaking in the hot, salty seawater. It left a grimy feeling on his skin, but wasting potable freshwater on bathing when traveling on the ocean was a stupid waste and a luxury he didn't need to indulge in. He didn't mind it today, though. He loved the water, he decided. Especially when it was as warm and as easily accessible as it was on his ship. He brought it to a bearable boil and let the steam fill the room. 

He relaxed and closed his eyes, sinking deeper into the bath, an uncharacteristic grin spreading over his face as he formulated a delicious new plan to capture the Avatar.

It was so obvious he didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before. It was simple. If you want to win the grand prize, you have to play the game. Win the smaller prizes and trade them up for bigger ones.

Play the game. That's all he had to do. He already knew he had the skill to win.

And then the prizes would be his. All of them.

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**END. **

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**Thanks for reading and reviewing! I'll be posting Endnotes later, but I'll mostly be working on completing all of the Drabble Challenges from the Live Journal Avatar 100 Community until Book 2: Earth episodes begin in January. I do have two sequels in the making, though. **

**That's right, two. **

**I can't say anything about the first one, my "serious" sequel. But I will say something about the second... **

**CAPTURED! The Musical - COMING JANUARY 2006.**

**(I know, songfics are kinda banned from the site, but I'll see how long I can keep the piece up before someone rats me out.) **

**I've got a few more goodies in store for the rest of December, so stay tuned! **

**Until next we meet, Happy Holidays and a Spiritual Winter Solstice to you all! **

**Regards, Vicki So.**


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